To Luke, With Love
by buckice
Summary: Begins a few weeks after Partings. Instead of facing her problems, Lorelai runs from them, taking a yearlong job from Mike Armstrong in Paris. During that time she writes letters to Luke revealing her true feelings about her past, present and future.
1. June 3, 2006

**Summary: **Begins a few weeks after the season finale. Instead of facing her problems, as usual, Lorelai decides to run away from them. She takes that job from Mike Armstrong in Paris for a year. And in the that time, she begins to write letters to Luke.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing's changed. I still don't own them.

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_June 3rd, 2006_

Dear Luke,

I know it seems strange, me writing you a letter after only a week, but today I looked at the calendar and I couldn't help it. I hope you will understand. I mean, you said to stay in touch. You told me that you wanted to hear from me. As, much as I wanted to, I can't believe that you might just be saying that. After all, you're still my best friend. Even in a different country. Even after everything. Luke, you're still my best friend. You're still one of the two things I'm going to miss the most from Stars Hollow.

So I looked at the calendar today and I realized it was June 3rd. Do you remember what June 3rd was supposed to be? Do you remember what we were supposed to be doing today?

Deep down, I'm hoping that you're not shredding this letter and burning it after reading those last few questions. I just have to know. You have to understand. I proposed to you and I spent a year with the idea in my mind that one day I would be Mrs. Lorelai Danes. In fact, I spent a few weeks thinking that on this day I would become Mrs. Lorelai Danes. I almost ordered new address labels just so I could have some with that name on top. And maybe I never stopped thinking that. Do you think it's possible that in the back of my mind I still thought there was a hope of us getting married today?

I know what you're saying. Lorelai, you're crazy. And I am. But still… I had hope...

I guess while I'm writing to tell you about today, I can also catch you up on what's been going on. I mean, if there's any possibility that you're still reading this letter after what I've written so far, then I'm sure you'd like to know. Of course you know that I flew out here last week. I told you that already. I left that in your instructions. You did see the instructions right? I really don't want to come home and find that you've killed my dog. No matter what you think of me Luke, please don't take it out on poor Paul Anka. It's not his fault that his mother's a horrible person.

So you know what I did the moment I got here? I mean the instant I stepped out of the airport. No, I didn't go right to my apartment and start decorating. I didn't go to check out my new place of work. Instead, I went right to the Eiffel Tower. Have you ever seen the Eiffel Tower? I mean, I know you've seen pictures, I showed you pictures from my trip with Rory a few years ago. But have you ever seen it up close? It's nothing like what you would expect. I mean, who would imagine that a brown metal structure could be such a thing of beauty. I stood at the base of the tower looking up at it, just staring at the top and I could see it just stretching to the heavens. I could almost imagine that if I climbed to the top I'd be in the clouds. Up there, I wouldn't have to think of everything down on Earth. I'd be all alone. Just me and the clouds and the Care Bears. Just us. Nothing else would matter anymore. I would be free.

Of course, that's not true Luke. You can't just go to the top of the Eiffel Tower and be all alone. There's masses and masses of people everywhere. And you're not really that high up off the ground anyways. Sort of strange, the view looking down from the top of the Eiffel Tower arouses such a different feeling in me from the view looking up. From the top you can see all the people walking around the square, like little flies in a carnival. I know, funny concept, flies in a carnival, I'm sure you've heard of a flea circus. Can you imagine it, little flies on a Ferris wheel? Or a carousel? Or a flying trapeeze? But that's what it looks like.

It makes me remember that time we were New York City. You remember, right? We got the limo to pick us up at the diner and it took us out there. The whole drive into the city, I kept thinking about how that time driving into the city was so different from any other. It might have just been the warm hand on my thigh the entire trip or the idea that it was the first time I was going to experience the city with you. I remember that the whole trip up you kept going on and on about how proud you were of me, how beautiful I looked, how you couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend. All I could do was stare out the window at the lights on the freeway, because I didn't know what to say. How do you respond to that? What can you say to someone who's making you seem as perfect as Helen of Troy? But I heard you, Luke. You have to know that I did.

I remember that moment. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about before I even describe it. I'm sure of it. But I'll do it anyways, because I love that moment. I love just remembering the feeling of that moment. We had taken the elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. And I remember how your hand gripped mine the whole ride up. I remember it was the first time I realized that you were scared of heights, like a little kid getting to the top of the slide at a water park and suddenly realizing that he's not on ground level any more. I loved that little boy side of you. It made me feel young. I know I like to joke about my immaturity, but sometimes, especially when I look at Rory, I just feel old. So just getting free of that, feeling young, it's nice sometimes. You know what I also loved? That, although you were afraid of heights, you were willing to attempt going to the top, just so I could have the pleasure of your company, just so that I would be happy. You really are amazing Luke Danes, you know that?

When the elevator doors opened onto the top of the building, I remember that I almost had to drag you out of the elevator. I wondered for a moment if you were just hoping that the elevator would take you right back down before you realized how high up you were off of the ground. Now that I think about it, that's probably what you were thinking. But I couldn't let you do that. I couldn't let the experience go by. I couldn't stand at the top of the building and look out without you next to me, sharing in the moment.

Then we walked around the top of the building until I found the spot we were looking for. You remember it? You asked me why I didn't want to look out at New York City and see Times Square from above. You wanted to know why we were looking out at New Jersey, at the ordinary people going about their ordinary days. Do you remember what I told you? I said that I want to see what we look like from above. Those little people down below. Living their ordinary lives. Having their ordinary days. They were us. And I peered between the grating, just watching them, imagining what they must be thinking, what must be going on in their lives, wondering if they were as lucky as I was right at that moment. And you stood behind me, careful not to get to close to view, so that you couldn't actually look straight down. And you put your arms around me. Your chin on my shoulder. Your warm breath against my ear. Your cheek against mine. And we just stood there. You and me. Wrapped together as one person. Watching ourselves from above. That was the first moment I told you I loved you. And I did, I really did.

I've never forgotten that day Luke. I've never forgotten that moment. Our moment. The perfect moment.

After leaving the Eiffel Tower last Monday, I moved into my apartment and the next day I started my job. The apartment is small but decent. I mean, who needs a large apartment when you're the only one living there? And when you know you're the only one that's ever going to live there? There's all the normal things that any apartment would have: a bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom and a living room. Thankfully, Mike arranged for the place to come furnished because there was no way my furniture was going to make it all the way from Stars Hollow. Besides, I want it to be there when I return. And in the long run, there's only one piece of furniture that I wish were there. That big chair. It's not like it's even in my house in Stars Hollow. It's not like I should be used to it or anything. But it's in your apartment. And you were going to move it over to my house when you finally moved in. That's what you kept warning me. And I kept whining and saying how I wouldn't marry you if you were going to threaten me with that.

Here's my little secret and I don't mind saying right now, except that I can only imagine the look on your face when you read this. But I figure that I know you pretty well. After ten years, I oughta know you pretty well. So the secret is that I actually wanted you to bring that chair over because that chair is you. I mean, if my chairs are flowery and colorful, then they are me. But that big comfy armchair is you. And I wish that I had that chair here. I could imagine that you were sitting it just waiting to pull me into your lap and hold me close. That you would hold me until I realized that I wasn't so alone anymore. But you aren't here. And the chair isn't here. And I am alone.

Oh Luke, you know that's what hurts the most. I did what I did so that I wouldn't feel so alone and do you know where I ended up? Alone. I really thought things through, huh?

So I did manage to convince them to exchange my living room couch for a futon. Rory promised to come and visit this summer and hopefully throughout the school year so she'll need a place to sleep. Are you surprised she's coming? I certainly am. Not that she doesn't love me, but if she's coming all the way to Paris, she might as well take a stop in London to see Logan. But she says she just couldn't stand it. She says if she visited she couldn't imagine that she'd be able to leave, at least without grabbing his hands and taking him with her back to Connecticut.

How do I tell my daughter I know exactly what she's saying? When I'm the one who left of my own accord. When I'm the reason I had to leave. When I can barely let your name pass my lips.

But I do know what she's saying. I wanted to grab your hands and drag you with me to the airport so we could run away and hide together, even though all we would really be hiding from is each other. When I went to tell you I was leaving, all I wanted to do was stay firmly planted in your apartment and never move an inch again, just have you with me forever.

How did you let me leave, Luke? How did you let me leave? How did you let me walk away and tell you it was over? Don't you understand if you had just moved, just said something, just my name, anything, that I would have turned around and run into your arms and pretended I had never demanded that you elope with me?

I really hope you did listen to me. I'm not talking about that fight in the street in front of the diner, but what I said to you last time I saw you. I hope you heard me. Otherwise I hope Paul Anka knows how to go knock on Babette's door. You are going to feed him right? You're taking him for walks? You're paying attention to that list on the fridge of the things he doesn't like to eat? Okay, I know you memorized that a long time ago, but still…

Luke he needs you. You know how it killed me to leave him. He looked at me with those sad puppy eyes that made my heart clench. He must have learned that from Rory. When she was little, I mean really little, and I had to leave her with Mia so I could get some work done at the inn, she would make that face. I think it's the one you call the 'Rory face'. She used to beg me to let her work with me, but can you imagine how little would have gotten done if I had my two year old following after me everywhere I went? Not that she would try to bother me, because of course she's Rory, she's an angel. That wouldn't be the problem. The problem would have been me. All I would want to do is play with her and hold her and make her laugh, bring that smile to her face that makes me think I'm her entire world. Basically I would do anything to get rid of that sad 'Rory face'. I swear, it's the same one that Paul Anka uses. Luke, seriously, look at the poor dog. He's got that face on, I just know it.

Let me know about him when you write back. Please write back Luke. If not about yourself, at least tell me about Paul Anka. Tell me about Lane's new place. Tell me about my house. Just please, Luke, just let me know that you read this, let me know that you're at least receiving the letter. Please.

With hope,

_Lorelai_


	2. June 10, 2006

**A/N: **Since a few have asked, I'm not entirely sure where the idea for this story came from but a year ago I read this book called We Have To Talk About Kevin. It was made up of letters from a woman to her ex-husband in which she wrote about their son who had committed a Columbine-like crime as well as memories of their times together and a lot of things, none of which have to do with Luke and Lorelai. But I was pondering the finale again and I have written a fic about how Lorelai fights for Luke but then I thought, what if she didn't? What if she ran instead? (Which is not completely un-Lorelai-like.) And I could just see her writing a letter to Luke because even after leaving she's still thinking about him and then I thought of that book. In the book it was just the woman's letters and I liked the way you figured what the guy's responses were without actually having to read them. So what I'm trying to say is that I'm not planning on including Luke's responses. You should be able to infer much of what Luke responds from Lorelai's letters.

I'm really pleased with the response so far to this story and I assure you that there will be a story contained with in the letters and not just a bunch of letters. And I'm considering putting in a few letters not to Luke but to Rory as well. Thanks for reading and reviewing and keep it up!

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_June 10th, 2006_

Dear Luke,

I don't think I need to tell you how surprised I was to receive your response. After rambling on and on for what must have been about four or five pages, I was sure that you would read the first paragraph, flip to the end, see my name and burn the letter in effigy. It's actually almost a relief to know that you have more respect for our ten years of friendship than to just toss my letter in the trash and say to hell with her. I know that I should know you better than that, but after what I did to you, I can't say that I wouldn't be surprised. I guess I almost feel I didn't deserve your response. That as much as I begged you to answer, I'm amazed that you followed through.

I was pleased to read that Paul Anka is happy and well. I can't believe you're letting him sleep at your apartment. I mean, I know you chocolate proofed the place, but I think deep down I wondered if you still resented him for being in my life.

I still remember the morning you told me about him eating the chocolate. I remember the look on your face as you described the scene. It was picture perfect. I could see you finding the chocolate and then checking Paul Anka's mouth for traces. I could see you running him to the animal hospital and then to the vet. I could see you giving him water and holding him for hours, willing yourself not to fall asleep, and then taking the extra time to chocolate proof the apartment and diner so that he could stay there when I was over there. But what I heard was, I did it for you Lorelai, you're hurting because of Rory and I don't want you to be hurting because of Paul Anka. Sometimes I wonder if I ever deserved you at all.

You know, that was also the morning I told you that I wanted to wait until things were right with Rory before we got married. Luke, did you ever wonder if it wasn't going to happen like I did? Did you ever think for a moment that you put that ring on my finger just to put a smile on my face and kissed me in the gazebo just to take the pain away? Did you ever think that my proposal was just another one of my crazy antics and that it was one moment that I wished I could take back? You never told me how you felt about me postponing the wedding, except the one time you made an off hand remark like 'when we're married, gee when's that gonna happen'. You never let me in. Was it because I was hurting?

I guess I did the same thing, didn't I? I never told you how much I hated that you postponed our wedding. I made one comment when we were on Martha's Vineyard and then nothing until that night in the street. You were supposed to just understand that I wasn't okay with it. You were just supposed to get me.

You have to know that proposing to you was never something I regretted. Sure, it was spur of the moment. Yes, I told Max that a proposal has to be something magical with horses and daises and balloons or something. But I was wrong. A proposal just has to be one member of a couple finally realizing that they've found their soulmate and they never want to let them go.

Do you know when I realized that? Because, really I have no idea.

This past week I've been spending a lot of time really getting used to the job. I think this is the one and only time these words will be written by my hand, but I'm actually thankful for Michel. Thanks to him, I'm used to some of the annoying habits of Frenchmen. I'm also able to decipher their English through their accents. Did you ever meet Michel when he first started at the inn? I think I remember the first time you two met, but I'm not positive it was the first. Since you're not here to correct me, I'll just go with it being the first time.

It was a rainy day back about seven years ago and my jeep had gotten stuck in the mud at the inn and I called you and begged you to bring me some coffee. I must have whined for about fifteen minutes about how it was the worst day of my life and I wouldn't be able to survive without a cup of your coffee and there was no way I was going to be able to get to the diner to get some because my jeep was stuck and my hair had been ruined by the rain so much that I couldn't go out in public. So, as usual, you came to my rescue. I think you were more interested in seeing what my hair looked like after I had been soaked by the rain. (I hope you know that I can hear you laughing all the way from here, Luke, don't forget that.) I know it looked like someone had put a giant mass of seaweed on my head. I suppose that was payment enough for you to drive all the way to the inn just to bring me a cup of your coffee. But I still apologize for Michel. He had no right to treat you like that, but eventually we both learned that he treats everyone like that. Even paying customers.

I was back in the kitchen talking to Sookie when a bellboy rushed in to to tell me that I'd better come quickly before the French-American War began in our front room. Before I even got in the room, I could already hear your voices. Your growls and grumbles matching Michel's high pitch squeaks. Thinking about it now, it's actually kind of funny. But at that moment, all I could think was that you two were going to receive more complaints than Drella that day and I would be faulted for it. And, as an added punishment, my coffee might be ruined.

And there you were, yelling at Michel that you had one job to do and you were going to do it no ifs, ands, buts, or irritating Frenchman were going to get in your way. You were so hopping mad that it was shocking to realize that your one task wasn't to paint the Sistine Chapel. All you wanted to do was get that coffee to me, laugh at my hair and get the hell out of there. And do you know that all I wanted to do at that moment was throw my arms around your neck? Especially when I heard you defending me to Michel. I mean, to my face, all I got from you was attitude and grunts but when Michel said that I was a weak woman who was always looking for men to come to my rescue, you had my back instantly. And I don't necessarily think that Michel was wrong. Course I don't necessarily think that Michel was right either. But you… you said that I was one of the strongest, toughest, most hardworking woman that you ever met and Michel should be thanking Mia for allowing him to work under me. I swear, I was flying. My heart fluttered. If I hadn't been so damn afraid of the consequences, I would have done you right there in the front hall.

Sometimes it breaks my heart to realize that we could have had more time together.

So I was telling you about my job. The inn here is really nice. It's on the rural outskirts of Paris in the XII arrondissement of Paris, right near the Bois De Vincennes, which is one of the two municipal parks of Paris. The inn was built in 1956 by a man name Gustav Platines. It actually looks older than it is. When it was built, Platines went for a French Revival theme and it actually came out quite beautifully. I think the first time I walked up to it, it seemed like it belonged in England on one of the large estates. When you first walk into the inn, it almost seems like you're walking into a home. Not that it seems like you're intruding. No, not that at all. But it seems homey. Like you belong. It actually makes for a lovely work environment. It makes me not dream of home, of the Crap Shack or of the Dragonfly so much.

Okay, I admit that's not true. Every day when I wake up, I wish I were going to work at the Dragonfly. That place was my home. I built it from the ground up. I put my heart and soul and all my money and even some of yours into it. Do you remember that? Do you remember that you're still a part owner of the inn? I know. I know. You call yourself an investor. In fact, sometimes I think you'd have barely let me call you that. I think sometimes you wanted to pretend that that thirty-thousand dollar check just appeared in my hand out of nowhere. We made up a time table and everything for how I would pay you back. But then we started dating and eventually it got really annoying to have to find places around the diner and your apartment to leave money so that it wouldn't be me handing my boyfriend a check. Basically so I wouldn't wake up in the morning after sleeping with you and give you money like I was using you or something.

Mike Armstrong said he went through all his places that needed someone like me to consult and he thought this place would be perfect for me. And it is. It really is. It's perfect for me. Do you think the more I write that, the more I'll start to believe it? I mean, lots of people think lots of things are perfect for me. Hey, Sookie thought you were perfect for me.

Dammit, I wish I weren't writing in pen. You were perfect for me. I knew it too.

Sorry… I had to stop writing for a few hours. I reread your letter though in that time. I read the part about Liz being pregnant. When did you find that out? Had you told me that? I don't remember you saying it. Man, I wish I had known. I can just imagine it, Liz barefoot and pregnant, screaming at TJ that he's burning down the house or making a hole in her roof. And you just know he would do that. You'll have to take pictures and send them. Or not. But, do, please, give Liz my congratulations and well wishes. She deserves to be happy. Someone does.

I wonder if the kid will be like Jess. You know, she was right. Jess did turn out okay. Rory told me all about his bookstore and his book, which she's still trying to get me to read. He's really made something of himself. He's changed. He's not the kid who stole Babette's gnome or ignored my daughter's phone calls. He's better than that. And did you know that he stopped by my mother's house when Rory was living there? Do you know that he told her to go back to Yale? Do you know that he told her everything I was thinking without me even knowing it? He's something. When I heard about that, I almost when out and bought him a cape. He's almost… well actually he is… he's you, Luke. You've always been my hero. And you know, I couldn't imagine anyone else I'd like him to turn out like.

You're going to be a great uncle. I mean, to this new kid of Liz's of course. You've already been a great uncle to Jess. You're amazing, Luke, you really are. You're a good uncle. A good brother. A good father. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I know what I'm talking about. Remember, I'm the one you chose her over.

Sorry.

Again that whole using a pen thing strikes again.

So I should get back to a safer topic, huh? Yesterday I decided to go shopping. I mean, you always hear how awesome the shopping is in Paris. And do you know they don't really make the Lorelai look in Paris. (Really, Luke, for God's sakes stop rolling your eyes!) It's a special type of style that's all my own, hence the term 'Lorelai look'. I must have gone to 80 million stores and didn't find anything. I guess the whole thing is that what am I buying things to wear for? I have work clothes. Tons of them. I have enough that there's some still left at my house. I believe there's probably still some in my drawer in your apartment. I've worked at an inn for more than half my life, I have inn clothes. So what do I normally shop for? Clothes that I fear I'm never going to need again, dating clothes.

You remember the dress I wore to our first date after we got back together? The pink one? I know you remember because you were totally drooling when I took off my coat. And you were supposed to be. I bought it for you and I don't mean for you to wear. I went out specifically and bought that dress so that you'd come and get it. I bought it to show you what a great girlfriend I can be, to prove to you how glad I was to have you back in my life. I guess a simple dress doesn't fix everything.

Luke do you ever look back on your life and say, this isn't how it was supposed to go?

Have you been checking on my house? I mean, you don't have to. You have your own things to do. I'm already grateful for you taking care of Paul Anka. But I was just wondering. It's summer now and I remember on the first beautiful day of summer I would open all the windows and just let the sun and warm air seep in. The house needs that sometimes, just a little airing out. You could even stay there if you wanted. I mean you helped pay for the renovation. You helped pay for the furniture. You may have never actually moved in, but it's still partly your house.

On the other hand, if you do decide to stay there, please don't tell me. I don't want to know. I don't want to imagine you there, in what was supposed to be our house, in our bedroom, without me. I just couldn't handle that. It was supposed to be ours. The house was painted and renovated to fit us. And who's living there now? Not us. And I don't want to think that it's just you. I don't want to close my eyes and imagine you on our couch or laying in our bed. It would just remind me what I lost. What I threw away.

So, please, if you do write back, don't tell me.

But do write back. I loved your letter. It may have only been a few sentences to my masters thesis, but it was something. And everything about it was so you. And it made me miss you more. At least it made me feel something, at least it made me feel alive. I've been here two weeks and until your letter arrived I was nothing more than an empty shell. Just a body moving into an apartment, doing a job, but letting nothing touch me, feeling nothing. Your letters are like oxygen, please don't take them away.

Living on a prayer,

_Lorelai_


	3. June 17, 2006

**Notes**:

All right well I've had lot of requests for Luke's letters, so I'm going to promise to put in one of his soon. I believe that this letter and the next will both be Lorelai and you'll know exactly what Luke said but then I will promise a Luke letter. I only wrote one story from Luke's POV so I'm not positive that I can get him down as well as Lorelai but that fic got a pretty good response, in fact I think it got the best response out of all my oneshots, so I'll do my best.

No there's probably not going to be any dialogue. I think that was the point of writing this story to me. Just something different. Sometimes I like to spend time writing without the dialogue because the dialogue is the easy part, it's doing the inner thoughts that's hard. Yes, I promise a hopeful/happy end. I am, after all, a JavaJunkie at heart.

Nope, I'm not a professional writer. In fact, I never took an english course in college. But it's always been a fun hobby of mine. And I've written about so many characters since I started writing but Lorelai's my all time favorite. She's so multifacted. She's got so many quirks and insecurities. And in many respects she reminds me of myself but with a little insanity thrown in.

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_June 17th, 2006_

Dear Luke,

Do you know that it's only been fifteen minutes since I talked to you and I'm already writing to you? But I have to, you know that. I can't just leave it. I have to know what you're thinking. Me calling you and telling you that I'm pregnant and you responding with silence doesn't do it for me. I'm a say it out loud kinda person. You're a hold it all in until you burst kinda person. But I need to know. Are you happy that in six months you're going to be a father? I mean, again, of course.

Are you afraid to ask me if it's yours? You can, you know. It wouldn't hurt my feelings. I mean, it would, but I've got it coming. I mean, I, Lorelai Gilmore, of all people, know that sex comes with its own consequences. Not that mine turned out badly, because I couldn't imagine my life without Rory. But still, that experience should have at least taught me something. So go ahead, ask me. Ask me if the night that I threw away our relationship was the same night I got pregnant. Ask me if I was selfish enough to call you and tell you I was pregnant just to wonder if you were really the father.

And if you really know me at all, you'll already know the answer.

Can you believe it was just a year ago that we talked about having kids? I mean we didn't really talk, but more agreed, kids would be good. And not just random kids, but our kids, yours and mine. Did you dream about them that night? Did you dream about our wedding? Did you dream of our future, the two of us old and grey, playing wheelchair shuffleboard at Newport Nursing Home? I'll admit, that's not what I dreamt of that night, although I wish that it were. I wish I could lie and tell you that the night we agreed to marry, I dreamt of our future happiness together. But I can't lie to you. I never could.

That night I dreamt of Rory. My perfect child. My beautiful angel. Did I ever tell you that her first word was Mama? I'm sure that comes as no surprise to you or anyone that ever knew me or Rory. But it was still the most beautiful words ever uttered from her little mouth. It was back when we were living in the potting shed behind the Independence Inn. It was early evening and Rory and I had just finished dinner. The phone kept ringing and I knew deep down it was my mother calling. So in order to drown out the sound of the phone, I turned on the music, turning it up as high as I could without breaking my almost one-year-old daughter's ear drums. The Eurythmics were singing Sweet Dreams at the top of their lungs and I picked up Rory in my arms. We were partying down the house, spinning and dancing and me singing and Rory was laughing. It was like the whole world was just us, me and Rory, lost in a sea of music and dancing. And when the song ended, breathlessly, I held her against me. I was so caught up in emotion and the feeling of the whole moment that I couldn't control my breathing or thoughts anymore. So I just held her against me, using her to soothe myself. And at that moment, she picked her little head up and I heard the most amazing sound in the world. My daughter. My beautiful, darling, love of my life said Mama.

Can you imagine me at that moment? For a moment, all I could do was shake and a let loose a few tears. I mean, I knew Rory loved me. I was all she had. She had to love me. But at that moment, I really believed it. I was the mother of this little person who would love me forever, unconditionally. Something I had never experienced before in my entire 17 years of life.

Sometimes I wish you had known me back then.

Those words you said over the phone. Few and simple. "Hello?" "What?" Two words. But they were precious. You don't realize what an effect your voice has on me. Maybe I didn't even realize until I was done telling you about the pregnancy and about the doctor and all that and you responded with silence. Not a sound came from your mouth. And Luke, it was the longest minute of my life. Just waiting. Just hoping you would say something. Anything. Yell at me. Scream at me. Say how happy you are. Anything. Just say my name. Just grunt something incomprehensible like you used to. But I got nothing.

And eventually I realized you weren't going to say anything. I'm not even sure you heard me tell you I loved you and goodbye before I hung up. I'm not even sure the words actually came out of my mouth. I mean, I heard them in my mind. I knew I wanted to say those words, but I'm not sure I found my voice.

After I hung up the phone, taking a few tries to actually get the phone into its holder, I laid on my bed for what must have been an hour. Okay, now I know it must have been only about ten minutes because I started writing this letter just after I sat back up. In all that time, my eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. But all I could see was your face. And I was trying to imagine the look that must have been on your face after I told you about the pregnancy. I tried to imagine your expression. But after knowing you for ten years, I still have no idea what your response is. I can't believe I can't figure it out, but you've given me nothing to work with.

So the face I'm seeing is your face the night at the Dragonfly's trial run. In fact, whenever my thoughts drift to you, the first thing I think of is that look. The expression on your face right before you kissed me. It's indescribable. Do you ever think about that night? Do you remember the thoughts going through your head at that moment? Do you remember how you felt? How it felt to kiss me for the first time? How it felt when I responded? Do you remember the feeling of my lips against yours? My hand on your face, running my fingers over the stubble of your cheek? Your hand in my hair, threading your fingers through? Your hand on the small of my back, pressing lightly but still pulling me towards you? My hand on your back, actually touching you for the first time? The warmth of our closeness? The flutter of your heart? The tingling that ran down your spine and all through your body? Just feeling close to you for the first time, closer than ever before, like we were coming together and if it were possible we would meld into one?

You know it's strange, we dated for two years, but that night, the first time you kissed me, it's still the most memorable moment. You were my best friend. You were the person I went to when I needed someone to confide in. You were the one I cried to when I missed my daughter and I was running out of money. You were the one I defended against your own nephew and to your wife's lawyers. You were the only one who looked at me and saw me, saw everything about me, and loved it all.

I haven't called Rory yet. I don't know what to say. What do I tell her? She's going to want to fly out here. How do I tell her no? How do I tell her that I can't take her assistance? How do I tell my daughter that I don't want her to make it easier? Because it should be hard. It shouldn't be easy for me. I shouldn't be able to find out I'm pregnant and have you or Rory just come running to my side. It shouldn't be that way. I have to face facts. I'm an adult. Sometimes it takes doing things on your own, to realize how easy it would be to have those who love there to help you out, but there are consequences in life, even for pregnant women.

I tried to teach Rory that once. I'm not talking about earlier last year when she moved into the poolhouse and out of my life. No, that was just a remedial lesson. This first time she got that lesson from me was at the age of 8. No commenting on my parenting technique, Luke, remember when she was 8, I was only 24. Besides, what experience did I have to draw from? From whom should I have learned how to teach my daughter important life lessons? I swear if you say my parents, you better also be feeling a smack on the side of your head.

Okay, what was my original topic? Oh, okay, my Full House episode. You know how Rory and I are, best friends, closer than sisters. But one day when she was eight, when we were still living in the potting shed, she came home and burst into tears. She screamed at me that she wished for once I could be like all other parents. That she could have the same life as all of her peers. That we could live in a real house. And I could buy her a bike and we could go on trips and have large parties at our place. And the whole time, she was just screaming at me. It's hard to imagine, I know. So un-Rory-like. She just stood there, red faced, tears streaming down her cheeks, her long brown hair in tangles down her back. And the awful look on her face, not so different from one I used to give my mother. And it hit me, just then, that the way she felt about me in that moment was the way I always felt about my mother.

I'm sure you can only imagine what I must have been feeling. I mean I lived my whole life for that girl. Everything I did. My job. Everything. I did it all for her. I gave up my need for a new wardrobe every month for her. I gave up my dream of traveling with the Bangles for her. And I wasn't sorry I did it, until that moment.

And then I said the meanest thing to her that I've ever said to my daughter. I said, "If you really feel that way. If you really wish I wasn't your mother. If you really don't love me. Then you're not the daughter I've raised. You're not the daughter I love. And you can just turn around and walk out that door and go be the daughter of someone else, because I want nothing to do with the daughter that's standing before me."

Are you feeling me now Luke? It still breaks my heart to remember what I said. To remember telling my daughter that I didn't love her. I've only ever really loved two people in my life, so you can imagine that saying that was the hardest thing I've never done.

I guess you're feeling a bit lucky I never tried to teach you a lesson.

Or maybe I did without knowing it…

But she had to learn. One day she was going to be an adult and she was going to have to live in a world with consequences. Until that day, there hadn't been any. We lived in our own little cocoon in the potting shed. Or in the inn where there was Mia to baby us. Or at school where she was at the top of her class and all the teachers loved her. We had so little and nothing could hurt us. But she had to know, that there is a big world out there. It's big. It's scary. And for every action there's an equal an opposite reaction, at least according to Newton.

Maybe it was also the first time I really learned that lesson. For most teenage mothers, having a baby is punishment enough to make you realize that there are consequences. But not for me. Rory was a bonus. She was a reward. She got me out of my parents' house where I was unhappy. In her I had found the only person who I could always depend on. So I guess I hadn't learned the lesson myself. Maybe I still haven't. Maybe this whole experience with you is just to reteach me this concept. I can hear you now, 'jeez Lorelai, you didn't get that already? Does an anvil have to fall on your head?'. Yes, Luke, sometimes anvils are necessary.

And in that moment after I said that to Rory. I mean the very next second. She got this look on her face and it haunts me still to this day. Luke, just picture it. If you can't handle the 'Rory face', just imagine how much worse this one was.

Instantly I went to her and gathered her in my arms and she clutched my shirt, sobbing against me. I didn't know I could hurt someone I loved that much. I didn't know I had it in me. I never thought I could be that kind of a person.

Oh, Luke. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know how else to tell you how sorry I am. I could sing it, but I think that would only serve to work against me.

Luke, I have to know what you're thinking. It's killing me. This silence. I need you. I need to hear you. I need to know you. I need my Luke. And no 'I'm right here'. Because you're not. You haven't been since the moment you found out about April. You've been somewhere else and I can't reach you. Let me know you're there. Let me know you hear me. Tell me what you're thinking.

Yours in repentance,

_Lorelai_


	4. June 24, 2006

**Notes**:

Okay well, I've been trying and trying to write a Luke letter and I finally did, but it's not good. At least, not as good as I would like it to be. He comes out sounding kind of girlish, or something. Because really, we all know Luke wouldn't write a long letter. Just a few sentences. And I think that overall I've done a pretty good job relating Luke's thoughts through Lorelai's letters. I was going to take a poll but this is my story and I feel that this story is best told completely from Lorelai's perspective. So I've decided not to write Luke's responses after all, sorry if I got your hopes up, but this I had always planned on this being a JJ fic entirely from Lorelai's POV.

Don't worry, Luke won't miss out on this kid's birth. I don't think Lorelai would let that happen, or Luke, no matter what their relationship is like. I think that's when Lorelai's letter to Rory or Sookie will come in.

* * *

_June 24th, 2006_

Oh Luke,

Sometimes, you really do crack me up. Of all the ways I considered you might respond to my phone call and my subsequent letter, never did I imagine that it would be in this way. Three snail mail letters. Each containing one sentence. No Lorelai to begin them. No Luke to close. Just the simple sentences. Actually, they were questions weren't they? Three questions. In all totaling 15 words. Amazing, Luke. Truly amazing. Monosyallabic man returns.

I don't mean that I'm taking them lightly or anything. I was just surprised. To open my mailbox and find a letter from you, not once, not twice, but three times this week. Do you know how much each of your letters has made me smile? Sure, there's only been five in total, but I can't stop grinning the moment I take each one out of the mailbox. Clutching them in my hand each time, I run up the stairs to my apartment, trembling with anticipation, almost as if I can see you writing it. Some grimace on your face as if you're trying to convince yourself that you don't want to be writing to me, all the while secretly trying not to be delighted with each and every one of my letters. Hah, Luke, and you wonder if I really know you. Well I think I just proved it and feel free to tell me if I'm wrong. What's that, Luke? Oh right, it's you grudgingly telling me that I'm right as usual. My silly Burger Boy.

When I get to my apartment, I rush to my desk to get out the letter opener, quickly ripping through the envelope. And would you believe it, at that moment, I set both the letter opener and the letter on the desk. I step away from it. I mean, what if that were the last one? What if something's changed and you've decided that I'm really not worth it? What if you've finally realized what I know full and well, that you deserve so much better than me?

Eventually after downing two cups of coffee and a crueler, all the while eyeing the letter on the table, I'll finally get around to picking it back up. I hold it in my hands, just feeling the weight of it in my fingers. (Can I throw in a dirty there because I feel that it is entirely necessary!) I slowly slide it out of the envelope and open it and read. And you know that I read it a few times, making sure that I've read every word, that I've caught every key phrase, that I've heard your intonation correctly.

Course, the last three only took me a minute or two to read a few times. Three measly questions. But, man Luke, when you ask a question. And I almost feel the need just to write them again, before I actually answer each of them.

_When are you coming home?_

_Where are you going to live?_

_Why can't I hate you?_

They weren't rhetorical, were they? I mean you really do want answers from me? I guess the choice is to call and ask and risk making you angry that I have to call and ask, or just decide on my own.

When am I coming home?

Simple. A year. May 26th, 2007. I wasn't kidding when I told you I signed a year long contract. I can't just leave. I signed a contract. I made a promise. Not all of us can make promises and turn around and pretend it didn't happen. Sorry. I know I keep trying to play nice, but it comes out Luke, sometimes, it just does. But I came out here for a reason. I left because we needed space. We needed time to figure things out. We needed a break from each other to decide if there was any thing left between us to keep fighting for. And I know, I'm being slightly hypocritical by writing that, because obviously we're still in contact. But it's not the same. Seeing you. Touching you. Looking in your eyes. I can't do that here. I needed to get away from your eyes and your touch to think. I came here for a year. I promised Mike a year. Baby or no baby.

I'm pregnant. That word. Wow, Luke. I have to remind myself of that every morning because it's so hard to believe. Did I ever tell you that I thought I was pregnant a year ago? It was before I fought with Rory. Which, obviously, was before I proposed and before we had any discussion of kids. It was actually the day after we came back from our trip to New York City. You remember that night? Man, if I could number the nights with you, that would certainly be in my top ten. I don't know if it was the limo or me telling you I loved you for the first time or the alcohol coursing through your blood, but something brought it on. We were wild. We were crazy. All guards down. No time to be gentle. No time for condoms. Barely even a time to make it upstairs. Did we even make it up the stairs the first time that night? I remember we almost did it right there on the stairs because you weren't sure your legs would make it up the stairs. It was wonderful. It was crazy. It was passionate. God I loved you that night. I think I made it a priority after that to get you to let go of your inhibitions as often as I could, get you to be that hot blooded man I know you are deep down.

So a day or so after that night, I was at the hospital where Sookie was giving birth to Martha and I ate an apple. No cheering, Luke. Apples are important. See the only reason I've ever eaten an apple of my own accord was when I was pregnant with Rory, that day at the hospital with Sookie and a two weeks ago, thus the reason for my doctor's appointment. For a whole day I was freaking out that I might be pregnant. We hadn't talked about kids yet. It had only been a few days before that I had admitted my love for you. And you with your whole 'jam hands' talk, it scared me. What if I were pregnant? Would you leave me? Would you break up with me? I don't know why I thought that at all. You loved me. Even if you didn't want to be a father, you would have never broken up with me just because I was pregnant. But I was scared. I think I was always a little scared of losing you again once we got back together that March.

I was scared. I clung a little closer. I depended on you a little more. When Rory was gone, you were my whole support system. And when April showed up and you were slipping away, I just kept holding on. I was so scared of losing you, Luke. I was so scared that if I did something wrong or said something you didn't want to hear, you would leave me. Were you ever scared of losing me again?

And I'm back on topic, which as I read back a little bit, I was talking about the day I thought I was pregnant. Really Luke, if I talk the way I write, it's no wonder you call me Crazy Lady. But I love that you do. I love the way you say it. I love the curl of your lips as the words leave your tongue. I love just the sound of those two words on your lips. It's like its own little love poem just for me.

But back to the day I thought I was pregnant. That evening I ate some junk food, dum dums or something and decided I wasn't pregnant after all. I'm not sure why, but the feeling that I was most certainly pregnant had disappeared. That feeling in my gut that something was very very wrong, it had disappeared. Because it wasn't wrong. I was sitting the cafeteria drinking a coffee and eating a donut and picturing myself pregnant with your children, remembering the dream I had once when I was pregnant with your twins. I saw myself sitting in a hospital bed, holding our baby in my arms and you sitting next to me, with both of us wrapped in your arms.

Somehow this last week, when I found out I was pregnant, I tried to recall that image but I couldn't. I thought about it this morning. But I can only see myself, sitting alone in the hospital bed, holding our child. No you. No smile on my face. Just me and our child in black and white. Ug, Luke, is that how it's going to be? I mean, when I told Mike that I was pregnant, he offered to fly you out here. But you won't take it will you? You won't come. You'd never take someone else's kind gesture. Just like you wouldn't have agreed to live in the house my parents were buying for us as a wedding present.

Ooops, I think I hit on something I never told you about.

Surprise!

Doesn't matter anyways. We didn't get married. We aren't getting married.

But you should have seen this house Luke. It was so charming. It was blue, just like we had chosen for the Crap Shack. It had a white fence around it. There were enough bedrooms for us and Rory and April, if you wanted, and one or two of our own little ones. A few of the rooms had balconies. There was a swimming pool. And stables for the horses. And a fishing hole for you. And so much land. Luke, it was unbelievable. And do you know, for one second, the first time I walked up to the picture and actually looked at it, I could see it. You out in front with our son, playing ball or catch or what ever it is that boys like to play. Me and our daughter taking a nap under the tree in the front yard. I could see it. But then I remembered that I hadn't put Rory in the picture. Or April. And then that whole picture vanished. I couldn't see it anymore. And I knew, Luke. I knew it then. It wasn't going to happen.

My mother even came up with a list of lines I could use to convince you to accept the house as a gift. I think she would have even moved our stuff into the house behind our backs just to get us into that house.

Maybe that's the answer to your second question. When I come back with our baby, where will I live? Truthfully, I haven't the faintest clue. But where would I like to live? In that house. With you. In that beautiful blue house with the white fence and stables, large enough for our whole family.

So only one question left. Why can't you hate me?

How about why can't I hate you?

I must have asked myself that about a million times. Why couldn't I get up the courage to shake you until you realized how much you were hurting me? Until you saw how much it was killing me that you were choosing your daughter over me? That you had changed. That you weren't letting me in. I can't keep going over and over this Luke, I really can't. So I'm just going to stop. I can't answer your last question except to say that I can't hate you because I love you. The fact is that I love you more and more every day. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and that's so true. I miss you. Every night I wish you were here or I was there in bed next to you, curled in your arms. Every day when I leave for work I wish I could stop by the diner for a cup of your heavenly coffee and a quick kiss. And when I get home from work I wish you were there so I could regale you with stories of my day and you would get that smile on your face, the one where the corner of your eyes crinkle, and you look at me like I'm the most fascinating person in the world. I dream of all of that.

Don't ever doubt my love for you, Luke. Don't ever do that.

Do you remember that night back when Rory was living in the poolhouse and I begged you to stay over even though you had a really early delivery and I made you watch a Friends marathon? Man, I love ranting Luke but this was a completely new ranting Luke. It was like ranting Luke squared, high on meth, on fire, at max volume. But I knew you would give in eventually. I just knew it. I knew you. And you did. You refused to go near the TV until you were in your pjs, teeth brushed, face washed, completely ready for bed. Then you turned and gave me a quick kiss before settling down to pretend to watch the TV show until you fell asleep. But it didn't happen.

Did I ever ask you if you had seen Friends before that night? I know I spent a whole dinner telling of my deep love for Matthew Perry, but I'm not sure you ever really knew who he was or what show he was on. I think you just let me go on and on because you like when I get excited about something, even when it's a guy who's not you, as long as it's a guy I'll never actually meet.

I remember that I told you in honor of our engagement we would start with the episode where Monica and Chandler got engaged. You remember what your response was? You said you didn't understand why the writers would name a character after a lighting device and I had to explain that his name was Chandler not Chandelier. Then you crabbed that it was still a stupid name. I didn't tell you then but what's worse is that his middle name is Muriel. (I'm guessing that if the baby's a boy we can knock Chandler Muriel Danes right off the list of possible names, huh?)

After finally clamping my hand over your mouth and insisting that the show would be much more interesting if you stopped being such a grump, I finally turned on the episode. And you were enraptured. Don't ask me why that episode caught you so much, but it did. Even after my expression of undying love for Matthew Perry, you still seemed to identify with Chandler and his need to have his proposal to Monica be just perfect. The funny thing is, I was just like Monica. I just wanted to be engaged. I guess you could say last month I just wanted to be married. I wanted to marry you. Monica wanted to marry Chandler and when he seemed against it, she found that Richard wanted to marry her. But she couldn't say yes to Christopher because she loved Chandler. Shit. I mean Richard, not Christopher… I mean…

Oh, Luke. I couldn't have ever chosen Christopher over you. I wouldn't have. I was just so caught up in… whatever… that I…

What I was trying to say about that Friends episode is then when Monica tried to propose. I remember hearing you mutter under your breath about why it is that women think it's okay to steal the guy's moment. Is that what I did? I just wanted to be happy. And in that instant I knew that you were the only thing, the only person that could make me happy. So I just asked.

So, sidetracked again… When Monica proposed to Chandler, or tried to, she said she never thought she'd be so lucky as to fall in love with her best friend. That's what I've been trying to get at. Why can't I hate you? Because I love you. Because you're my best friend. Because when we were together I knew that I was the luckiest woman in the world, I had found a man to love who was my best friend, my soul mate, my true love, my confidante. You were everything Luke. You still are. I'm still confiding in you. That's why I can't hate you. And I hope you know that I was the only person you could ever confide in, that I was your best friend just as you were mine.

Forever yours,

_Lorelai_


	5. July 1, 2006

_July 1, 2006_

My wonderful dinerman,

I knew that eventually I could break you. I knew that eventually after writing letters that existed of a few words, a few questions, a few random facts about the town and its inhabitants, that eventually you would write something of substance. And it's not that I'm trying to break you like when I was trying to teach Paul Anka to close the door behind him when he came inside. It's nothing like that. I just wanted to hear something from you, I mean not just words on a page, but you, the you that lives inside, in your head. And whatever I've done, something I've said must have hit you and opened you up because I feel like we're actually starting to make a break through.

You've held everything in for so long Luke. You really have. I've felt like I haven't been able to reach you and somehow I think that any amount of screaming would have done very little. Obviously, yelling at you in the street wasn't what worked. Or maybe that's exactly what worked, I don't know. What was it Luke? Why did you suddenly crack and decide to give me a chance? I don't mean a chance to get back together with you, I mean a chance to hear you, to hear the real you. Was it me getting pregnant? Was it my letters? Was it April asking about my whereabouts?

I suppose I should try to answer your most recent questions before I talk about anything else. Like my morning sickness. You know, I'm not sure how I didn't realize I was pregnant until I ate that apple. I mean I didn't really notice that I'd gained a little weight. I didn't notice that I wasn't feeling well. And I really didn't notice my moods were a little off. I think I was a little wrapped up in confusion about what was going on with you, a little too wrapped up, that it took until I got away from you for my body to have a chance to inform me that I was pregnant. Strange, huh?

But now, every morning I'm by the toilet. I don't know how I'm gaining any weight because this isn't just morning sickness for me. It's all day. All night. Even if it was possible for me to sleep through the night I couldn't. And you know, sometimes when I'm just sitting by the toilet, resting my head on the rim, completely exhausted, I wish that you were here. I can imagine you holding my hair back and rubbing my back and telling me that you're right by my side. That everything's going to be okay. Telling me you'll always be here.

I really have an overactive imagination, don't I?

That's what you would do though, right? If things weren't the way they are, that's how it would be. That's what I lost. That's what I threw away for… I don't even know why anymore… Maybe that's what's worse, I'm not sure why I did it anymore. I was frustrated and confused and I doubted your love, yes, but I doubted that you would ever marry me and I was just so… so…

You're angry that I doubted your love for me, I got that much. I got that. And I'm sorry I doubted that you loved me. I did it twice, I know, but I thought I had to ask. Tell me what you ever did in the four months before we broke up that told me you loved me. Sure, that one night on Martha's Vineyard you let down your guard, but the moment we got back to Stars Hollow everything was just the way it had been. It was like the Vineyard was our little escape, the only place that we could be us, the way we were meant to be. The way I saw us in my dreams. And then when we got back reality set in and we were the pod-us again, or maybe we were real us and the us on Martha's Vineyard was the potential in us.

Sometimes, late at night, I ponder the what ifs. What if you hadn't asked me to Liz's wedding? What if Jason hadn't decided to sue my father? What if Rory hadn't quit Yale? What if Christopher hadn't come to my parents' vow renewal? What if April hadn't found you? What if Anna had told you about April thirteen years ago? That's all I've got left. I feel like I live through my imagination.

And do you know what? In all those dreams, every time I think about what might have happened, we end up together. You and me. Like the dream I had. The one I told you about the night the Independence Inn caught fire. We were married. You talked to my stomach. You hid my coffee. You kissed me.

You kissed me.

You loved me.

We had everything.

Anyways, I said I'd answer your questions didn't I? I'd better look and see what they were before I get sidetracked again. You know how my brain works. I remember when Rory was studying psychology back when she was going to Chilton. She had to learn all these different definitions and in order to memorize them she would think of people that fit the definition. I know what you're thinking, I probably fit all the definitions. And I'm not going to sit here and deny that. But Rory managed to find people to fit most words and she said that she chose the word tangentiality for me, which apparently means that I start talking about something and go from subject to subject never actually finishing my original thought. Smart girl, huh? You're going to laugh but apparently that's a big indication of psychosis like schizophrenia or something.

And right then, I did it again. Sorry.

So you want to know what I want from you now. Truthfully, I'm not sure. My heart and my head are saying two different things. My heart is saying come here, please come here to Paris, come be with me, come raise our child together, I'll show you how much I love you. My head is saying take your time, think things over, you need your space, I need my space, things aren't right, maybe they never will be. So in the area between my head and my heart is my mouth and it can't chose. It can't decide what to tell you.

Do you remember that fight we had before we got together? (I know, real specific here, right?) I'm talking about the one we had when you moved with Nicole to Litchfield and didn't tell me. I couldn't believe you moved. I couldn't believe you didn't tell me. I couldn't believe you had weeks before I even figured it out. But, I think, more than that, I couldn't believe that you were still making a go of it with Nicole, that it might actually work out for the two of you. I know, I was dating Jason at the time, but something in me said that I couldn't let you move, I couldn't risk losing you to Nicole. And it felt like, if I didn't object to you moving, that you would think I was okay with it, that you would think it would be okay with me for you to really be married to Nicole. It wasn't okay with me. I hope at some point I made that clear to you.

The reason I brought this up was I'm reminded of that night we went to break the bells at the church, you remember? We were still so frustrated with each other because we were both in love with each other and either we didn't know it or we didn't want to know it. So my heart was saying don't move, don't let him go, don't let him be with her. But my head was logically saying that you were married, you were with her, I was with Jason, we weren't together, I shouldn't be with you. So when you asked me why I didn't want you to move and Reverend Skinner walked in, I could have kissed him. (Bet you're glad I decided against that.) I didn't know what to say. My mouth was between my head and my heart and they were fighting a war that my mouth didn't want to be a part of.

Did that make any sense to you? Read it over a few times, imagine how my mind works, eventually you'll get it. You probably already do.

God I love you.

I'm not sure where that came from. I just… there are so many times that I look out the back window of the inn here and I see the park and I think about you. I can see us in the park, our little one running ahead of us, chasing a big red ball, your fingers interlaced with mine. And you know, that image only motivates me more.

So how can you forgive me and how can you trust me? You know Luke, I'm not sure if I trust you. I mean, I know I said I was okay with the whole April thing, and I am. I mean, I'm okay with you having a daughter. I'm not okay with the fact that you lied to me. First you make me promise no secrets. Seriously Luke, how many times did you make me repeat it? And I promised. No secrets Luke. I told you about Christopher. I mean I told you about meeting Christopher for lunch. I told you about the deal with him paying for Yale. It wasn't even anything, it didn't even involve you. It didn't involve me. It was Rory's thing. But I told you. I made sure you were okay with it. So why the hell couldn't you tell me about April?

Two months!

We went through Thanksgiving. That stupid early Christmas party at my parents' place. Our own Christmas, in bed, under the big white comforter. New Years curled up under the big blanket on the porch swing watching the snow fall. It was wonderful. Rory was back. We were back. Everything was going perfectly. I should have known. When has my life ever been that perfect? But I thought, hey, I'm almost 38, it's high time that I get a little perfection in my life.

In all that time I heard nothing from you. We spent all that time together and you couldn't so much as say, hey Lorelai there's something you should know. Two months.

No secrets, huh?

I don't know how you're going to forgive me. I don't know how you're ever going to trust me. I don't know how I'm ever going to trust you. I forgave you for keeping it from me, I really did, I do forgive you, but you still lied. You still kept her a secret from me. I mean, what does it say about us that you could keep that from me? What does that say about me? What does that say about what you think of me?

But she's cute. She's adorable. I can see her mom in her. And funnily enough, she said that I remind her of her mom. But I can also see you in her. So dependable. So giving. So wanting to just let loose and have a good time. When you see April next, tell her I say hi. Tell her that she's going to be a big sister. Take her to the Stars Hollow Independence Day festival. I think there's some sparklers in my house from when Rory and I were making a sparkler garden. They're in the closet by the stairs. Just look, you'll find them. And if you don't know what sparklers are then you really are a hobbit. Forget it, just ask April. Have a good time.

And Luke, tell her that you love her.

Find her somewhere to stay with you. Section off part of your cave or something. I'm not trying to tell you what to do but Luke, seriously, you chose her over me, you could at least let her in. I'm not there any more. There's an entire ocean separating us. You've got to have someone to open up to, you've got to let someone else in, you've got to let someone else see the real you, the soft underbelly of the man that is Luke Danes. For years I took for granted that you showed me that side of you, that I was the only one. I shouldn't have. Just when I needed to know the real you the most, everything got cloudy.

By the way, I have another doctor's appointment this week. There's this really nice receptionist at my work, Graciela. She's cute. She's great. She's everything that Michel's not. Which is really strange for me. I almost miss Michel, just so that I can have a little fun at work. She's like one of the nicest people I've ever worked with, I mean really nice, she likes everything, she's okay with everything, absolutely crazy in my mind. But anyways, she has a one year old. She gave me the name of someone to go see and I got an appointment for Tuesday. This lady, Dr. LaPlanche, she's supposed to be wonderful. And she can speak English which is a plus. When the only French I know is voule vou couche avec moi, it's not so good. I think she can tell me the sex of the baby. I'll be four months along so it should be time. Do you want to know?

We're having a baby Luke. You and me. We're going to be parents. And I'm still confused. I think you're happy. But I just feel so alone in this whole thing. This isn't how it was supposed to be. You know, I think Cher was right after all.

Missing you,

_Lorelai_


	6. July 8, 2006

_July 8, 2006_

Luke,

I'll bet you're wondering why I'm writing to tell you about the baby instead of calling. I do love writing letters, makes me think of John and Abigail Adams. Do you know they wrote letters constantly when he wasn't in Boston? I mean they were the 'it' couple of their times. Like the Ben and Jennifer of their times. And they just wrote these amazing letters. I think they're on display in the archives or the John Adams museum or something, we'll take a trip sometime, I'll show them to you. Don't you think it's even a little bit lovely that we're just like John and Abigail Adams?

Okay okay I lied, the reason I'm writing instead of calling is that they've disconnected my phone here for a few days. When I told Mike about the baby, he insisted that he find me a new apartment with two bedrooms. And you know me, I hate moving. It's exercise. It's a lot of work. And personally, I'd rather be shopping. But Mike insisted, in fact he even offered to send his son, Troy, to Paris to help me. I'm not sure what I did to win Mike over but that guy is so totally wrapped around my finger. So I'm moving. Just up one floor, I'll give you the new apartment number when I'm sure of it. But I'm moving.

They unhooked my phone so that I could have the same phone number and move it, but then somehow the line got cut and so what should have been a simple move has turned into something so complicated that I almost would rather just cut and run. Ug, and somehow I found my Garfield stationary so I could write you this letter because most of my stuff is in boxes and apparently will remain that way until I can move. Yeah, some genius also cut one of the pipes and flooded the new apartment, I swear if I didn't know any better, I'd figure TJ did it. So they're fixing that and we're waiting for the place to dry out before I move. Seriously, I'm thrilled about this whole idea. Anyways, so all my things are in boxes and I'm living like a hobo.

Do you have any idea how aggravating it is to try to live your life in a mess? I mean, my life is a mess. Oh Luke… my life really is a mess. I'm just thinking about when we were renovating the house last year. Oh man that drove you crazy. We couldn't go upstairs for weeks. We couldn't sleep in in the morning. Those workers saw me naked, which I think ticked you off more than anything. God, the look on your face when I told you that. I should have taken a picture, I'd never frown again. I thought you were going to hunt each of them down with a pitchfork. You were so… I don't even know the word for it. But I belonged to you. I was yours to protect and you would have done anything. And as much as I hate to admit it, because I swear Kelly Clarkson wrote that little ditty about me, but I loved having you to lean on. I loved that you were my support, my only light through those months when I was missing Rory so much that it hurt. Weren't those months wonderful?

Sure living in the living room wasn't the greatest thing in the world. And no Rory, well you know how much I liked that. But it was like you and me fighting the elements without having to go camping and be bitten by mosquitoes and charged by bears. We went through it all together.

And now I'm facing this whole pregnancy and I'm doing it alone.

Yes, I read what you wrote. I know that somehow I'm not alone. But I am alone. I feel alone. This child inside of me, he's yours. I mean, when he's born, when he grows up, he'll be all yours. Because he's going to find out what a horrible person I am. He's going to look up at me and know that I hurt his father. He's going to feel your pain and run from me and never turn back. And… Luke…

This whole living out of boxes thing would be a little easier if I could find the tissues. Seriously the stupidity of hiding tissues from a pregnant woman is ridiculous.

Oh, by the way, there's your answer. I should have made it more apparent. We're having a boy. You're going to be a father not a mother. No, wait. I mean, you're having a son not a daughter. And Liz is having a boy too so you'll also be an uncle. Not that you would be an aunt if Liz were having a girl. I would be. I mean, if we were getting married I would be. And, I'm going to leave and go in search of that shovel to dig me out of this giant hole I'm suddenly finding myself in.

So you said April liked the Independence Day Festival? See, I knew she would. I can't believe that Kirk almost lit the banner on fire when April shared her sparklers with him. I always thought those were pretty harmless toys, you know like a beanie baby or something. I guess in the end, nothing is harmless when Kirk is involved.

But you said April wanted some pictures of Paris? I'm sending you a few postcards I found in a drawer at the inn. The inn is really well run, for the most part, but I swear whoever ran it before me would use one room until it was completely destroyed and then just lock it and never go back. I've found three rooms here that are completely trashed, kind of like my apartment right now, and I've been going through stuff in them. Anything I can offer you? Some used shampoo? A tattered Bible that's actually in French so you wouldn't understand it anyways? I found a few unused condoms I could send you, although I really don't want to know what you're using them for. I mean, you wouldn't be using them would you?

Luke, would you?

I know I'm a whole ocean away but I would just hate to think that - … No, I can't tell you what to do. I left. I came here. It's just, it killed me to see you with Nicole. It killed me how much you wanted to be with Rachel. And we hadn't even dated then! Hell, it killed me when Carrie Duncan used to flirt with you! I admit it Luke, I'm a big green jealous monster. But you're mine. And even though you probably don't believe it now, I want you to be mine. All mine. I want to brand you with my name. A tattoo. A giant hickey. That weird thing that John Nash thought he had under his skin. I don't really care what it is, but I want to know you're mine. You're no one else's.

And I really have no right to make that claim.

Except I do. I mean, in a way I do. I'm having your child. We're having a baby. A boy. A beautiful perfect baby boy. And I know nothing about little boys! Seriously, when you write back could you possibly give me some insight into this area. Tell me about your childhood. Tell me about what you liked to do. What you liked to eat. When you liked to sleep. How you liked to sleep. Tell me what you were like as a baby. Man I wish I could talk to your mother and she would show me pictures of you as a baby, stripping out of your diaper during your naked phase, trying to walk and failing miserably. I really have no idea, since you've never really told me, but I can imagine it. I'll bet you were adorable. Dark curls. Bright blue eyes. A shy look about you but secretly wanting to have a good time.

Did you ever find out what April was like as a baby? I mean you know what Rory was like. I think I've told you every happy, sad, or somewhere in-between story about our life back then. I've shown you pictures. All you ever had to do was walk in my house which was basically decorated in pictures of Rory. There's that really cute one on the side table by the stairs when she was in her diaper stripping stage.

Did I ever tell you about Rory and Dean's first date? He came over to watch a movie with us, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (which is incredibly unlike the book that is called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, much more accurately portrayed in Johnny Depp's recent version, and I'm not just saying that because it's Johnny Depp and he's beautiful). Anyways, yes, Dean came over to watch the movie and we had pizza and junk food and all that wonderful stuff that I swear I'm not eating right now. I swear. Okay, I was eating it but strangely the thought of junk food's been making me queasy lately. This kid better not be getting your eating habits. What would I ever eat when I get home and have to deal with two healthy eaters? I mean, you know, if things actually… forget it, I don't want to think about that right now.

One time I swear I'm going to stay on topic. I was telling you about Rory and Dean's first date. All I really wanted to tell you about was what happened when Dean first got there. It was so cute. Rory and Dean were so nervous around each other. They were scared to look at each other. Were you like that with your first girlfriend? Were you like that with me? What, am I kidding myself? You waited eight years! You would think it would have been easy for us, making that transition. And in some ways it was. And in some ways it wasn't. Odd, but simple.

Rory and Dean. Rory and Dean. Rory and Dean. I'm just thinking that maybe if I write that a few times, maybe I'll stay on topic. (Stop laughing.) So Dean got there, late because Babette captured him for a little bit. And in order to break the tension, I figured I'd give him a little tour of the house. So I'm showing him the living room, kitchen, front hall, stairs. Not Rory's room because that's a little… presumptuous… I think. (How the hell did I know how that would turn out?) So suddenly I see Rory motioning to me like mad. Apparently she was afraid of Dean seeing that picture. She was afraid that his first memory of her would be that picture with her cute little baby bottom front and center. Hehe. I almost left it just to see what Dean would do, but I might not have survived the matricide that would have followed. Okay well, if it was actually matricide, I definitely wouldn't have survived I suppose.

Can I just say that I think my favorite part of your letter was when you told me exactly what you're thinking about being a father again? I know you apologized that it was just a few sentences, but Luke, you have to know that you can say more in a few words than Tolstoy said in all of War and Peace. Luke, don't be scared. He's going to love you. Basically, he's not going to have a choice about it at first. But then you're going to hold him and smell his sweet baby smell and look into his beautiful baby blue eyes and your heart's just going to melt. And he'll just sense it. He'll know you love him from the moment the doctor puts him in your arms. You'll make him feel safe. It's all right to be nervous. You've never been there when your child was born before. But don't think for a moment he's not going to love you.

Sometimes, late at night, when I can't sleep because apparently your son is an insomniac, I talk to him. I tell him all about you. I tell him about the first time we met. I describe you to him. Your smile that I never realized you saved for only a few people because you always smiled when I came in the diner. The twinkle in your eyes whenever you wanted to be annoyed with something I was doing, like numbering your tables or making your coffee so strong that it should have rotted my insides, but you just couldn't be. Your strong arms that held me together whenever I fell apart. Your lips that have some magical kissing power, that draw me in and I just can't stop kissing you because it's so wonderful.

I miss you. I really do. I wish that I was stupid. I wish I didn't know that this time apart is necessary. I wish I didn't feel that we need our space right now. I really would be on the next flight out of here and I'd run all the way from the airport, not even realizing that it's a pretty far run from Hartford to Stars Hollow, and I'd just throw my arms around you and never let go. I should have realized this then. Back that night, I should have realized this. I never should have let go then.

Okay, afternoon sickness returns. I'm going to go hang out in my incredibly spacious bathroom now, the only room without boxes in it because I spend so much time there lately. Hey, next time you drink so much that you're incredibly hung over in the morning, think of me. It's my life lately. I am one giant hangover.

Say hi to April for me. And Lane if you see her.

Dreaming of you,

_Lorelai_


	7. July 15, 2006

_July 15, 2006_

Hey there,

So do you remember when Jess's stuff first arrived at your apartment and your place was what I would term a federal disaster area? Yeah, that's my life right now. It's absolutely driving me crazy. I'm in the process of getting everything moved and there are some boxes down in my old place and some up in my new place (308 by the way). Some things are unpacked but a lot really isn't. So I'm taking today off of work to unpack because Rory's going to be here on Tuesday and I can't let her call child protective services on me. Can she do that in France? Can she do that when she's almost 22 years old?

Yes yes, Rory is coming. Not the British, Rory. And what's even more surprising is that my parents are paying for it. Yes, the same two people who insisted that I was ditching my daughter by coming here are paying for her to visit. I wasn't ditching my daughter! I would never ditch my daughter! I was… well… running, I guess.

I mean you know why I left. After I told you about... the rest of that night, I just spent days wandering the town in this fog. It was like my life was surreal and not in a good way. Everything, and I mean everything, reminded me of what I had given up or thrown away. I think I had never fully realized that our life together was more than you and me in my house, in our bedroom. But really, it existed in everything. In the gazebo. In the diner. In Andrew's bookstore. In Al's. In Weston's bakery, where I would hide when I was upset and didn't want to tell you. You knew I did that didn't you? It's why you always gave me that look when you saw me with one of their coffee cups. That look that said, Lorelai give it up. It said that you knew something was up but you didn't want to make it obvious by actually asking me what was up.

Well let me just tell you this, I think I've been wanting to hide out at Weston's every day since I got here. There's always something that gets me in that mood. Even when the sun is shining and the inn is going well and your son is letting me leave the lavatory for a small while, even then I still just want to go hide out at Weston's. Because there's always something. I miss Rory and she's sad and alone in her – no scratch that – Logan's apartment in New Haven. I miss Sookie and the inn and just working somewhere that actually felt like home Strangely enough, I miss my parents, they were this annoying consistency in my life over the past few years, like that constant weird bar in the back of my couch, necessary for the structure but annoying just the same. And I don't even need to tell you how much I miss you, I think I've said it over and over. But missing you would never make me hide out at Weston's, it would make me run to the diner and throw myself at you, wrap myself around you, hold you until I wasn't so scared of losing you anymore. Losing you is like a fear I think I have, irrational yes, but it's there.

Can I ask you this? (and I suppose I can because you can't actually answer me) Did you ever realize how much I wanted to be a part of your life with April? Did you ever get that I couldn't stand that you had two lives? One life with April and one life with me. We were getting married Luke. We were supposed to be taking two lives and making it into one life and instead I felt like you were splitting off from me more than ever. I really felt that all I had was your body in bed with me every couple of nights but your mind, your emotions, your inner you, that was drifting away from me.

I didn't mean to surprise you with this on the street that night but I thought you already knew. I thought you understood that I hated that you couldn't share your time with April with me. I mean I never kept Rory from you. Never.

The first time you met her I wasn't even there, but I didn't come in and carry her off away from the big scary dinerman who wouldn't give me caffeinated coffee. I glanced inside the diner after leaving the market and I saw Rory at the counter, her legs dangling down from the stool, her hands wrapped around a mug that I'm sure was full of coffee, talking to a man I had never met. Rory, the sweetest girl in the world, was never big on talking to people she didn't know and I never forced her to, probably in my need to keep her all to myself. But there she was, leaning in to talk to you, totally immersed in the conversation, laughing at something you said. I didn't even know you. I had never met you, at least until two days later when I was on my way to work and left my coffee on the kitchen table and remembered where Rory had gotten that cup of coffee and, well, you know the rest. But there she was, talking to you, not afraid at all, and I knew there was something about you, something Rory had discovered, the soft underbelly you've got inside.

Don't you find it funny that you met Rory first? Did you ever knew I knew about it or did you always just think I just happened to walk into your diner on the day of the horoscope?

You know, I love those pictures that you sent me of you as the baby. Why have I never seen them before? Did it take me moving thousands of miles away to get you to let out that little boy inside? And you were adorable! It's like falling in love with you all over again! Those bright blue bashful eyes, wide-eyed, fascinated by whatever is going on. A soft smile, not one of those open mouthed, huge grinned type of smiles, but so sweet, just like you do now. Even back then you were trying to hide how much things pleased you. You must have been one of those babies that everyone wanted to hold but you would just cling to your mom, wanting to observe people but not actually touch people.

And that picture with your mother. She's beautiful Luke, I mean she was… Sorry… You've definitely got her eyes. And her nose and her smile and… well I think you look a lot like your mom. Liz must look more like your dad. Your mom must have been something. I can tell how happy she was to have you, to be your mother. She loved you so much, you can see it in her eyes. God, Luke, I wish I could have met her. I would tell her so many things. I bet I would have loved having her as a mother-in-law. You know, if we had gotten married.

Do you think she would have liked me? I think she would have loved that she was going to be a grandmother again, two times over. Luke, can I ask you this, will you ever answer… what was she like? I've heard about your father. I know you wanted to be like him. I know he loved his job. I know he loved his family. I know he loved your mother. I know he loved Stars Hollow. And I love that. I think it's great that you admire him so much, but I wonder if you won't mention your mother because it still hurts to talk about her. If I am, as you said, the only person you've ever really told about your 'dark day' then can I be the only person you'll tell about your mother?

How is Liz doing by the way? She's six months along right? One more than me? You must be so excited. I mean, come on, a little TJ running around. So sweet. (Stop gagging Luke.) Is Jess excited? And when I say excited, I mean did Jess say anything more than 'huh' in response to being told he's going to be an older brother?

Oh, speaking of sending pictures, I'm also sending the first picture of our son. Isn't he adorable? I think he's going to look just like you, all black and white… Seriously, mood swings Luke, and I'm on an insane swing right now. Let's just see if I can get through this whole letter in my crazy phase because you don't want me bursting into tears. But I hope he looks like you, I mean I'm sure my mother told you at some point about how I had an unusually large head as a child. But you were a beautiful child. I want nothing more than for him to look just like you and be just like you, except the health food thing, and maybe the wardrobe thing, and, you know, the waiting eight years to kiss the woman you love thing.

And in response to your questions, yes my next appointment is in a month. Dr. LaPanche has already tested me for gestational diabetes and whatever the other million things that mothers need to be tested for. She said that an amnio is not warranted in women under the age of 40 unless the tests come out badly (whew, just dodged that bullet, huh?). It's so different from last time, I mean I had no idea what I was doing. My mother would drive me to the appointments and sit there with a sour look on her face during the entire appointment. I'm not sure if it's easier to go alone and stare at all those happy couples in the waiting room or go with my mother and… well, stare at all the happy couples in the waiting room.

This sucks Luke. That's the beginning and the end of it. This plain sucks.

You didn't even get the chance to help me pick out maternity clothes. I went shopping yesterday with Graciela. You know, how is it in that in Paris, the city with the best fashions, I have to wear maternity clothes? They're beautiful. They're classy. Of course, they're not anything I'm ever going to wear again once our son is born.

Did I tell you that Graciela asked about you? We're wandering around Paris, her leading me because I may have lived here for almost two months now but I have no idea where anything is in this city. So there I am, perusing through various maternity dresses, all with empire waists which are not my favorite, but nonetheless, beautiful., and Graciela just, as casually as she can manage, mutters that I've never really mentioned anything about the father of my child. I mean, what do I say? How, in the matter of a few sentences, can I sum you up? Sure I can say things like Monosyllabic Man or Dinerman or, you know, best sex I ever had (haha, I hope no one's reading this over your shoulder). But it wouldn't really define you. You're indescribable.

She's right though, I don't talk about you to anyone here. I mean, she's probably my closest friend here and I'm not even sure she's heard me mention your name. And it's not that I don't want to. It's not that I don't think of you because I do. Constantly. And it's not just your son that makes me think of you. It's everything. You've been so much to me for so long. My cup of coffee in the morning. My comfortable pillow at night. The breeze though my hair as the wind blows. Corny, right? I know it sounds strange to think that you're things to me that only Mother Nature has any hand in but you are. Everything is you to me. The sun. The stars. The air. Everything. There's always something there to remind me. (Bada ba ba da…. Yeah come on you know the song)

You know who I do talk about you with? Your son. All the time I feel like I'm telling him about you. Telling him all the reasons he should be glad that you're his daddy. Oh I can't wait until he's born. I can't wait to see you hold him in your arms for the first time. I want to see the expression on your face and the love in your eyes. And I want to say I told you so. I told you that you'd be a great dad. I told you that he'd love you. He's part me, of course he'll love you.

Okay, I've rambled on quite a bit here and Rory's going to be mad if I spent all the time I was supposed to be fixing up the place on your letter. She doesn't actually know I've been writing to you. It's not something that can easily be explained.

Ug, okay, I should go. Be good. Oh, check my mail for me I think Paul Anka's ready for his next set of shots, or don't, it's up to you. Just…. I love you is all. Okay? Yeah and that doesn't even seem like enough but it's true. So… nothing, that's it. Just… just write back, okay?

Lost without you,

_Lorelai_


	8. July 22, 2006

_July 22, 2006_

_Hey there Hot Plates,_  
Hey Lucas!  
_Rory! You're not allowed to call him that!_  
And you are?_  
Ug, sorry for that, children can't live with them and can't… I'm not going to finish that._  
Mom!

Just so you know this isn't Mom having two personalities. It's both of us. (notice the childlike handwriting underneath)

_Rory! That's my handwriting._

Case and point. Anyways, I saw a piece of paper sitting on the desk in Mom's room with the date on it and the greeting. I never knew Mom was writing to you. So I added my own greeting and then Mom noticed it and here we are. We're still arguing about whether or not I should be allowed to participate in this letter by the way.

_Well, it's my letter. I should be allowed to decide if you can write in it. I mean, you're not the one pregnant with his child._

Well put. (and by they way, nothing against you Luke, but I'm happy that it's her pregnant with your son and not me)

_She only said that because babies disgust her. So anyways, I was going to write and tell you that Rory arrived on Tuesday._

On time. Unlike some people I don't miss flights. I don't get on the wrong train.

_I swear the sign was in French! How was I supposed to know we were going to end up on the wrong side of town!_

There was also a sign in English! Child abuse! My mom just hit me!

_You know Rory, St. Peter won't forgive liars. Oh hey, Luke, we're supposed to be writing this to you. So let's write to you instead of to each other. Rory and I have been having an absolutely fabulous time together._

Oh sure, after she made me help her finish unpacking the last few boxes. Did you ever know being pregnant made you completely incapable of doing anything on your own?

_I'm not incapable, it's just a nice thing for a daughter to help her poor pregnant mother. So anyways, after we finished my move I took her over to the inn to show her around. Tell Luke about what you thought of the inn._

Yeah, it's like I'm three again. Oh Rory, Sweetie, tell Mia how sweet it was that she let you do that… Seriously we all remember I'm 21 right? But yeah, Luke, I don't know what she's told you about this place but it's so amazing. I mean the Dragonfly has a homey feel to it, don't get me wrong I definitely prefer it, but if I wasn't such a small town girl I'd want to move into this inn. The food here isn't Sookie's but then again it's not yours either. What I wouldn't give for a good Luke's burger.

_I'll second that. Lately all I've had an appetite for is asparagus and broccoli or anything brought to you by the color green. It's making me wonder if your son is going to be anything like me._

God help you Luke if it turns out to be anything like her.

_But then it would be you! So after inn we wandered around, doing some shopping. Well Rory did more shopping than I did, cuz you know I did all my maternity shopping with Graciela last week. _

Mom's told you about Graciela then? I wish we could import her to the US when Mom comes back home.

_But Michel..._

Is a putz.

_Anyways, what Rory did do was help me pick out things to decorate the baby's room. We're going with blue for a boy even though orange is the new blue._

Mom, Luke's not going to get that joke. So Luke, what are you going to name my new brother? Mom won't give me any hints but I swear Sherry had Gigi named the moment they knew she was an it.

_Rory, let's not focus on that right now. Right now we're just hoping for a happy healthy little boy that's at least a little like me. I'm so tired of eating vegetables you have no idea._

Oh Luke, Mom showed me a few of the pictures you sent of yourself as a baby. You're so cute! Personally, I can't imagine you as a baby. I can't imagine you as younger than you were the first day I met you. But maybe that's just me.

_Rory, when you're a parent you'll understand how easy it is to imagine the father of your child as a little boy, especially when you know it's the side of him he's kept inside for so long. Course, if it's with Logan, maybe not, he doesn't keep that little boy side inside, does he?_

Mom, let's try to stay off that subject as well. We're writing to Luke, so let's talk about something he's interested in.

_Hmmm… I heard those Red Sox are doing well._

Are they?

_Hell if I know. I'm in France. You're in France. They don't tend to broadcast American baseball games in France. (Not that I would likely watch them if they were on.)_

I don't know about that. You've been doing a lot of strange things since I got here. Eating vegetables. Not drinking coffee. Going to bed early.

_All because of that kid that's taken up residence in my body. You were nicer to me. You let me eat potato chips and stay up all hours of the night._

So I'm lucky I came out as perfect as I am, right?

_Alrighty on that note my daughter and I have reservations for dinner so we must head out. _

With love from the Gilmore Girls,

Rory and _Lorelai

* * *

_

Hey Luke,

I just shoved Rory out of the room so I could add something from me at the bottom. I really want to thank you, while I'm thinking about it, for your heartfelt letter. I should have realized that you didn't understand I felt ignored. I should have said something before everything built up inside, simmering and simmering, until the explosion. I mean, I guess we'll never be able to figure out how things might have worked out of things had happened otherwise. If you had told me about April from the beginning. If I had told you I didn't want to postpone the wedding from the beginning. Maybe it really is helpful, me being in Paris, makes us realize how much we screwed up this whole thing we thought was so perfect. Was it ever perfect? I mean, somehow I had this idea that what we had was this amazing thing that no one else had. How many couples are friends, best friends, for 8 years before getting together? How many couples know each other that intimately from the start?

Yet, things can't have been that perfect. Things still fell apart for us and I still don't know why and I have to admit, I'm not sure I want to come home until I do figure this out. Seriously, how helpful would it be to get back together and not understand the true reasons why things fell apart?

Okay, Rory's screaming for me to leave, but I just wanted to say that. And thank you for getting that vet appointment for Paul Anka. And just say, I miss you. I'm still not sure how I'm going to go a year without you, but I guess I'm glad I've got your letters to get me through.

Love from this Gilmore Girl,

_Lorelai

* * *

_

Hey future step-father (I hope),

Sorry I know you probably wish I hadn't started with that, but I want you to know I haven't changed my mind. I still want you to be my step-father. I really did mean what I said at my 21st birthday party.

Since my mom is writing letters to you I thought I could just throw this in with it. Can I say, just a little side note from me, I think it's adorable that you guys are writing these letters to each other? There's something so romantic about it, letters from across an ocean. Did you ever know that John Adams and Abigail Adams used to write each other these beautiful letters all throughout their marriage? You probably could care less about that, but I think Mom would appreciate that anecdote. I mean, back then, they had the marriage that all others were jealous of. They were really in love and today we know this because of the preservation of these letters. Do you ever think after writing Mom a letter exactly what the letter says about you? What will your grandchildren think about your relationship if they read these letters years from now?

I couldn't tell you what I think. She may have let me in on her letter but she hasn't let me read yours. She wouldn't even give me a hint of what they said. So I'm going to ask you just this. Have you moved on? Do you still want to be with my mom? Do you miss her? Do you forgive her? Do you still love her? Do you still want to marry her and be my step-father? Do you think you'll ever be able to get past what happened? I hope you know if I asked my mom all those questions that yes would be the answer to all of them.

You know what's another thing she won't let me do? Mention my father. You probably would rather I didn't mention him, but I have to, Luke. Really, you don't know how it ended between them, but she walked out, she left, and she won't talk to him. I don't know how she thinks she's getting closure by just ignoring him. I'm not telling you this for my father's sake, because in all of this, you're the one I feel the worst for. I'm telling you this because you need to know. She's chosen you. She wants to be with you. She'll run away from everything: her life, her house, her dog, me, my dad, her parents, her friends. She'll leave it all behind just to get you back. She misses you that much.

I think she doesn't realize that in order to get past this, to move on from what happened, she's got to talk to him. She needs to tell him what she's decided. She needs to tell him that she wants to be with you. She needs to tell him that he's not the man she loves, possibly that he never was. She needs to tell him to stay out of her life and not just think that her actions are speaking for her. I don't know how to tell her this. I don't know how to get her to do this. It's probably not something that is on the top of the list of things you want to do right now, telling Mom to talk to my father. It's a suggestion though, just so you know, I think it's only going to benefit you in the end and if you think about it, mull it over, you'll figure out I'm right.

Sorry, I guess I spent most of this letter writing about my father and Mom but if you didn't know, underneath all of this there's more to it. You know when I was in Stars Hollow last time, checking out Lane's new place, I was thinking about all the things I used to do: just hang out with Mom in the diner, go to town meetings and listen to you yell at Taylor, just so many things we did as a family before we actually were a family. You were always there for me, Luke, don't think I don't appreciate it. I'll never forget the donut you gave me when we realized we were the only ones who understood Jess. I'll never forget you giving me your mother's pearls and I'll never forget the look on your face when I introduced you as my future step father. I really wanted that, believe me. I still do.

Your daughter in spirit,

Rory


	9. July 29, 2006

This chapter is dedicated to **Danielle.** Your videos inspire me. _

* * *

_

_July 29, 2006  
Hey Babe_ (known as Luke to some),

Yes the dynamic duo is back again. Mom tried to book me a flight to the place we will not speak of but I managed to get out of it and I fly out of here tomorrow.

_As I run for the tissues again…_

Oh Luke, she is the most fun ever! I love Mom on mood swings. You should gotten her knocked up a long time ago. And I have my little way of forcing her mood to change, it's so much fun. Like a game or something.

_You like to see your Mommy cry? _

How to respond? How to respond… Luke, she's running for the tissues again. While she's gone I'm wondering if she ever told you that she thought she was pregnant over a year ago, just before you got engaged.

_Yes, I did Rory. Now let's talk about something that doesn't have to do with the fact that I'm gaining all this weight and all I want to do is sleep my life away._

And you know Luke's just itching to say that eating the way we do, he's surprised that it's only now that you're gaining weight.

_Are you calling me fat? _

So let's talk about what we've done the past week so Luke isn't rolling eyes and wishing he had never opened his mail.

_Wow, you know Luke so well. Anyways, Luke, we took a road trip out to Normandy cause Rory wanted to be all dork-like and look at historical things and such. There's an open air museum there where you can see all the historical sites and read about D-day._

It was amazing to see what could happen when all these countries band together to fight for freedom. We just walked and walked through rows of graves.

_Well, Rory walked and walked, I gave up after a bit because your son started kicking. Hopefully he's like me and he doesn't like exercise either. _

Right. Well I just hope he's got your ability not to take any crap from my mom. And again with the hitting…

_I knew you'd tattle. You know, Luke yelled at me for last time in his letter to us. Stop getting me in trouble! Luke, my daughter just told me that she's happy I got in trouble. You're on my side right? _

So back to what we were writing. We learned about the Rangers, a group of soldiers from the US, not some baseball team once owned by the genius who is now running our country.

_Not my country, I live here. The land of freedom fries._

Oh dude, Luke, you should seen it. Mom totally scared this woman by talking about freedom fries. We went somewhere to eat and got sandwiches and French fries (course they're not called French fries here). Mom kept asking this French lady, who apparently knew a lot of English what she thought of freedom fries versus French fries and the lady had no idea what she was talking about. But you know Mom, she wouldn't let this go so she kept asking and asking until the lady finally went off at her in French. I've never seen Mom so stunned.

_Who yells at pregnant woman?_

Mom, you can't use that as an excuse to get out of everything. So what I've learned, Luke, is that when us Americans were going crazy about freedom fries, the French had no idea what was going on, probably cause they think we're all idiots and wonder why can't we just concentrate on fixing our own problems instead of invading other countries and can't we for once not think that we own the world an---

_Luke, you'll have to thank me in your next letter for grabbing the pen out of Rory's hand. But now you know her feelings on the subject. And back to talking about our trip to Normandy. We took a ferry out to La Baie du Mont Saint Michel._

In honor of the man we all know and love.

_That's debatable. But really we heard nice things about this place so we went to go check it out. And, oh my, Luke, you should have been there. It was so beautiful. There's this abbey, known as the Marvel, right at the top of this hill with the little town surrounding it. Its name completely defines it. It's marvelous. You can take a nighttime tour of the abbey and it's so solemn and serene. _

Amazingly Mom was too. Oh man, she's crying again.

_No, I mean, yes I am, but Luke. It's just that… this is the most beautiful place I've ever visited in my life. It's like the whole island is at peace. You can just look out at the water and imagine all is right in the world. All is right in my life…_

So, um… we're going to throw some pictures we took there in with this letter. I managed to get my digital camera hooked into one of the computers at the inn so I could print out a few nice photos of mine. Now you can finally see what your - what Mom, looks like pregnant.

_Four months to go. No wait, getting close to three. I think after the second trimester things get better. I can't really remember, it's been so long since I was pregnant._

Almost 22 years.

_Yup. My baby's almost 22. Aw, just the cutest darling. _

Okay and now I've gotta go pack and Mom's going to go cheer me on because I think I hate packing as much as she does. You know, I really think I'm going to miss it here, it was a nice escape from Connecticut.

Avec amour,

Rory and _Lorelai

* * *

_

Hey again Luke,

So Mom's in the other room, hopefully going to sleep because she had a long day and it's not that I'm worried about her, it's just that I think this whole thing is hard on her. I know it's hard on you too. I get that. I mean I read your letter to me. But she's… she's my mom and I hate that she's upset. Maybe you don't think she is, I don't really know what you've said in your letters to her, but she is.

I hated that she was upset for those months after you postponed the wedding. I guess I understand that you guys had some type of understanding about the whole thing, she never really went into it, but it really annoyed me. I have to say this now because it's nothing I could ever tell you in person, but I don't understand how you can say you love her and let her hurt like that. She wanted to meet April. She wanted to be a part of your life with her.

Remember when I met April for the first time at Jess's store? She really impressed me. She's smart and I could see that I would really like getting to know her. I mean, I guess she's like you, she's got that sense of humor that comes across as completely sarcastic and she's so genuine when she's serious. Did you know we took a picture together then? I think it was while you were talking to Jess so I'm pretty sure you didn't know. It's cute. When I get home I'll stop by the diner and show it to you.

I bring this up for a reason, of course. During the reception after Lane's wedding, Mom was looking at pictures of herself on the camera because she was going to delete all the ones of herself (yeah she said she wasn't but I know her better than that and I think you do too) and she saw the one of April and me. I swear it Luke, her face just fell. She tried to hide it but I know it, I know it hurt her that you weren't letting her see April. And I still don't understand, why was that? I mean, I was there, you introduced me to April and could barely get out that my mom was your fiancée. And when she found out I met April, Jess met April, the whole town had met April and she hadn't… I gotta say it Luke, you're lucky you were out of town then and you didn't get back until after I left.

Anyways, I thought you should know. You know, Luke, I do get that you understand, at least from the letter you wrote me. I get that you see it. Don't think I don't feel bad. I saw the look on face at Davey and Martha's Christening and at my 21st birthday party. I hurt her too. It kills me now to think about what I was doing to her. She was lucky to have you then. I never asked, but I know, you were there for her when I wasn't. I'm amazed that you were so nice to me when you knew how much Mom was hurting. You brought her to my party. You gave me those pearls. You wanted to be my step-father. I hear you even drank a Rory. So I want to thank you for forgiving me so easily, for understanding that I was just going through a rough time and I truly regret causing Mom any pain. You should know that I'm doing the same for you, because I know what it's like to get caught up in something and end up hurting my mom.

Luke, as much as I want you to get through this, don't do it just for your son, my brother. Do it because you actually forgive Mom. Do it because you love her. Do it because you know that you and she and I were a family a long long time ago and now my nameless brother will be included in that.

One last thing, I agree that it's hilarious that Mom and I both wrote to you about John and Abigail Adams. Hey, like mother, like daughter, like son (?), right?

Sincerely,

Rory

* * *

Crazy man, 

Yeah I'm talking to you when I write that. I might as well get you a red nose and name you Bozo after your last letter. I mean, were you serious? You absolutely crazy, wonderful, amazing, burger flipping, porch fixing man that is reading this letter right now, were you serious? I'm in shock. I swear, my heart just stopped. I hope Rory just heard me slump against the wall.

Actually I hope Rory is busy changing her mind about going to London. She misses Logan, she should just go. If she loves him and she misses him, she should just see him. As I get out a red marker to write hypocrite on my forehead. But I can't go to Stars Hollow. I'm almost out of my second trimester. Can't fly after that point. She can go. She can see the one she loves. She didn't cheat on him and hurt him and break up their beautiful relationship.

Ok Luke, I…

Forget it, back to what I was saying earlier. You wrote me a whole letter about baseball and the all star game (whatever that is) and the world cup. By that point I was starting to wonder if you knew who you were writing to because I know nothing about any of that, except that France lost in the last round of the world cup, it was all people would talk about for weeks here. Lord, that was annoying as hell. They'd come up to the desk at the inn and ask me about how I thought France was doing, if I thought they'd win, if, as an American, I was cheering for France. In how many languages can I say that I couldn't give a flying rats ass about that?

Hmm… and I'm wondering where that anger came from…

Anyways, you went on in your letter to talk about Liz and April and can I say how cute it is that April bought Liz a baby name book? I kinda wish I had one, I have no freaking clue what to name our son. At this rate I'll just name him Boy and then when he grows up, Man. I swear I'm good with names, but you get some Demerol in me and that all goes out the window, just ask Rory. Wait, I think you know that story. You know all my stories.

On second thought, you name him.

The reason why I was telling you that you're insane is that you ended your letter by saying that you think I should talk to Christopher. Again, are you freaking kidding me? I mean, you of all people shouldn't be the one wanting me to talk to him. It should be Rory or my mother or… I don't know, Children and Family Services. It shouldn't be you. You think that talking to him is going to help? How? In what way?

Here's the thing. I can't talk to him. Talking to him reminds me of how I hurt you. It reminds me that I told you I loved you, I told you that I wanted to marry you and I walked away into another man's arms. And I just don't want to think about that. I don't want to see that in myself. I know Rory thinks that talking to Christopher, telling him that he's out of my life, telling him what a mistake we made will help me get over it. But it won't. That's not me. I just… I never want to be reminded of that night again. All I want to do is work at the inn and decorate the apartment. All I want to do is look forward to the future, to our little boy that we're going to bring into the world, to the day when I can finally see your face again, touch your warm, comforting hands and look into your eyes and know, truly know, that you'll love me for ever, unconditionally.

Probably too much to ask, huh?

Well write back. Please. I don't know why I always ask you to, I think I'm afraid that I'll write something the wrong way and that'll be the end of it. You know those cartoons when the little character falls off a cliff but manages to grab onto a rock by the tips of his fingers… that's me in this relationship. And I don't really deserve to be hanging there.

Completely and forever yours,

_Lorelai_


	10. August 5, 2006

I guess I have to put this at the beginning of all my fics. Please please please, **do not mention spoilers at all in your reviews**. I love reviews, they're awesome, they're wonderful, but I'm spoiler free and I want to stay that way. I don't even want a sense at all of what's going to happen. And I will stop posting fics if I do read about spoilers in the reviews, I apologize for that, but I do intend I remaining spoiler free for the entire next year. Thank you.

This chapter is dedicated to **Katie**, without whom this idea would still be swimming in my head instead of typed on the computer.

* * *

_August 5, 2006_

_Dear Luke,_

If you had any idea what I'm doing when I'm writing this, you'd seriously crack up. I'm sitting here on my bed with a flashlight in my hand, writing so softly so that you can't hear the pencil making marks on the page from the next room. I guess I could have waited until you left tomorrow before writing this but it's been a week since my last one and I really really really want to know if it beats you home. Do you think it will fly on the purple planes?

You probably have no idea what that means. When Rory was little and I had a day off, I'd borrow Mia's car and we'd go up to the airport and watch the planes take off, something we can't possibly do anymore since the new security regulations. So we'd be there and suddenly Rory would squeal and point at this one group of planes. (She was 3 so it was all right if she squealed, Luke. I still squeal and I'm – well not 3 anymore.) Anyways, the planes she was pointing to were the purple planes and anytime we flew after that, which wasn't often, she'd beg to go on the purple planes. I would have to explain to her that the purple planes aren't for people, they're for packages, and she'd say 'but Mommy purple is my favorite color they should let me fly in them'. Isn't that adorable? She thought that just because purple was her favorite color, the company would absolutely have to make it so that we could fly on a purple plane. See, Luke, these are the kinds of things you missed with April.

I'm not trying to say anything about Anna… well maybe I am. Maybe I should. Maybe I should have said something all those months ago when you first told me that she had kept your daughter from you for 12 years. Maybe I should have said something that afternoon when I went to talk to Anna in the store and she tried to convince me that she knew she was doing the right thing for her daughter, that she still wasn't sure about you since you had just been introduced into April's life. All I wanted to do was shake her and remind her that you're April's father, that you deserved to be in her life from the beginning, that if she had ever really known you at all, she would have known you would have been a great father.

I've told you that time and again (including yesterday). Yesterday. Man Luke, that was just, it was the most – just the best – and I can't even come up with the words to describe it. These are times I wish I was Webster. Course he was a guy, wasn't he, and I would hate to be a guy. I couldn't wear pink and I so love wearing pink. (How did I tangent already?)

Okay, so you're next door and I could really go out there and shake you awake and tell you what I'm thinking, but somehow I'm finding it easier to write it. Maybe it's because I realize that you're going to be an ocean away before you read this, so that the only thing you can do is write back or pick up a telephone or for once learn how to type a damn email. I mean, I want you to know what I'm thinking, I think all those months of keeping it all inside until I blew up at you taught me something. It taught me that we don't communicate very well, do we? Well, maybe we do now, I mean since starting this whole snail mail, John and Abigail Adams, long distance correspondence thing, I think that's what I've started to notice. We've communicated better by writing these letter than we did at all in those last five months. I'm not sure what that says about us or our relationship, but I guess, maybe that's a good reason why things fell apart, despite how much we wanted to be together.

But thinking back to yesterday, I have to say, the moment I opened my door and saw you on the other side, I wondered why I even thought we should be apart for so long. You looked so amazingly beautiful, so much that I just wanted to reach out my fingers right then and slowly trace them over the features of your body. Sometimes I think I would have realized my attraction to you sooner in life if I had ever seen what was underneath that flannel before that night in your apartment. Yes, I saw the dark circles under your eyes, I saw the grey twinge to your eyes, but all I could think was that this man standing in front of me was the most handsome man I've ever seen. You don't know what you do to me, Luke, my heart, my nerves, you set everything on fire. I'm so unbelievably overcome by every aspect of your being.

You know what I loved most about that moment, is that you didn't tense, you didn't hesitate a bit when I threw my arms around you. I held you so tight, so close. I breathed in your smell, your 'real man-diner grease-musty apartment-so very Luke' smell. God, I missed that. I let my cheek rest against your day-old stubble, recalling how there had never been a man I liked with a five o'clock shadow until you, until the first time I kissed your cheek and it tickled me and all I could feel was my heart fluttering in my chest.

And you didn't let go. I wonder if you would have ever let go if I didn't finally let go first.

When I stepped away from you and you slowly looked at me, in my new, 6 months pregnant form, I almost started trembling. Half of me wanted to take that step forward, to press my lips to yours, to place kisses all over your face, to run my hands all over your body, to get possibly a little indecent right there in the doorway. But there was that other half of me, the sensible half, the half I don't usually listen to, as you well know. So I stayed put until you asked to touch your son for the first time and you placed your hand on my belly and closed your eyes and I knew, I just knew, you were feeling him, he was becoming more yours than he ever was before. I should just go out tomorrow and buy him a little flannel and Red Sox cap. And when he gets older, I'll get you to shave him just like you do for yourself, the girls will be flocking!

But you came. And you didn't tell me, you big dope! That's what really gets to me. When I asked if you were here for your son, you said yes and for me. You said that you came because I was hurting and you couldn't stand to let me hurt anymore. And my heart broke. I couldn't look you in the eye. God, Luke, you are a wonderful, wonderful man. How can you just be like this? How can you come here and say that and just be so Jasper Jax to my Brenda Barrett after what I did?

I know you're not sleeping here in my bed with me. I know there's still this distance between us. But you're here. And, that's enough. In fact, I was the one who said that's enough. I was the one who said I didn't deserve to even have you here. I mean, you should be here, you came to your son's appointment, but you also came for me. The look on your face when I told the doctor that you were the father of my children (you have no idea how much I wanted to write my baby's daddy there). You had that proud papa look down pat. And when you look my hand and saw your child up close for the first time, not just in a picture I sent across the ocean, but actually on the screen, I'm not sure what choked me up more, the look in your eyes or looking at my child while holding the hand of the man who had created that child with me.

Do you realize how different this is from when I was pregnant with Rory? I'm not talking about the fact that I'm older or those kind of things, although they are true, I'm talking about you. I'm talking about the fact that this child is from love. Accidental, yes, but still, we had talked about having children, we were in love when we created this child. Our son will grow up with two parents who love him, who love each other, who love being parents, who…

Sorry I had to check and make sure the door was tightly closed because, as I sit here, I'm crying. Yes the morning sickness is over, but the mood swings are never ending. I'm sure you noticed that today when I was touring you around the inn and I started laughing at absolutely nothing and then the tears just started flowing. Graciela just walked over and handed me a tissue, she's used to it by now, but you just stood there in shock. I should do that from now on just to get to you. The look on your face was something in between shock and paralyzing fear. You're so much fun to play with. (Dirtyness unintended)

It's been fun having you around. Very different. Very twilight zone-y. Or as you would say, Outer Limits-y (you big dork). I loved showing you around town, introducing you to the few people I knew as the man who had impregnated me. I'm kidding of course, but I would have actually loved to use those words. It was great to show you the inn, to show you what I've been doing with my time in Paris, that I haven't just been writing letters and having morning sickness and thinking of you, although that was a major part of it.

I wish we had more time so I could take you around and show you the sites but I know you need to get back to Stars Hollow. I know that leaving Caesar in charge is never the best thing. I'd still like to try a frozen banana though.

And I think it's more than that, more than me wanting you to stay longer. I'm scared Luke. I'm afraid. Now that you've been here. Now that you've slept on my couch and made me dinner in my shiny new kitchen (we both know I've never used it except to pop popcorn). Now that you've gone to my work and eaten in my favorite restaurant and showered in my shower and laid next to me on the couch watching a movie… It's like all the things I was escaping by leaving Stars Hollow, are right here now. And somehow, I think you knew that. You did, didn't you? You have to work in your diner that I once ate in, sleep in the bed I once slept in, walk by the gazebo we once kissed in, eat at the restaurant we once ate at. Wow Luke, I never realized it. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you get on the phone and say dammit Lorelai, you're killing me here, you think Paris is rough, you think your life is rough, try living here in the town and the house and the life that we thought we be living together?

But you didn't do any of that. You answered my letters. You opened up to me more than I ever thought you would. You wrote about Paul Anka and April and the diner and Kirk. You wrote about seeing Rory and Lane. You wrote about refinishing the chuppah and making the stage for the newest town festival. You told me about your mom and your dad. You told me about your dreams for our son. And, most importantly, you came here, not just for our son, you came for me.

On that note, I think I'm going to give up on parenting and just hand our son over to you. If your parents can raise a wonderful man like you, I don't want my influence to keep our son from turning out just like you.

Oh, tell April thank you for the baby name book. I guess I should have realized that if she bought Liz one, she probably bought me one. I'm still getting used to the idea that this boy I'm carrying isn't just an idea, it's not just a dream that we're having a child together. The morning sickness, back aches, cravings, mood swings, weight gain. All just signs that in less than 3 months, I will hold our child in my arms for the first time. Luke, I never would have asked this before, but now that you've been here, now that you've met the doctor and seen your son up close, would you please come back when your child is born? I thought I could do it, I thought I could do it on my own, but I can't. He's not Rory. We're not me and Christopher. I love you. I want to raise a child with you. I want you to be there with me from the first moment our son becomes that little person we'll love to pieces. (And I know you won't be bothered a bit by the jam hands no matter what you've said in the past.)

We really should discuss names sometime. Hey, how about I open to random pages in the baby name book? His name will be Gary. No, Hobart. No, no, wait, Maris. Oh, that's a good one.

Wow, would you look at that time. I'd better go before you wonder why I two fist the coffee in the morning when I claimed I was going to bed when you were. You of all people know how much coffee I drink when I get a good night's sleep compared to when I don't.

It's funny, I want to say I miss you, but you're in the next room. But by tomorrow at this time and when you finally read this letter, I will be missing you. Actually, I do miss you now. I miss you in bed next to me, your arm possessively around me, your warm skin just a fraction of an inch from my own so that I'm enveloped in your smell, and your warmth, and your love.

I miss you, Luke.

Missing you like crazy,

_Lorelai_


	11. August 12, 2006

So I'm really getting into this whole dedication thing. This letter is dedicated to **Lulu**, who supports so much of my writing and sees it as only her 'duty' to be my agent. Thank you, as always for your kind words._

* * *

August 12, 2006_

Hey Hun,

Wow, will wonders never cease. Two! Two letters in one week. Two! (Yes, that's me you hear laughing like the Count.) But seriously Luke, when I got the first one I tore it open prepared to settle down on my nice comfy couch for a long read, and, obviously, you know what I found, one line. One brilliant line. I don't know, call me crazy, but when I compare your long letter I got today to the one I got a few days ago, I actually preferred the first one.

Okay, anyways, I think I'll respond to your long letter first because it's staring me in the face right now. You really want to know how I know you'll be a good father? You wanted to know how I knew before I ever saw you around April that you would be a good father. Because, Luke, I know you. And don't give me that whole, oh Anna knew you and she didn't think so. That only makes it obvious to me that she didn't know you, the real you, the Luke Danes that's still hidden deep inside. She can claim all she wants that you were a different person back then, but excuse me if I remind her through you that if April's 13, then I met you 3 years later, could you have really changed that much that fast? You're still the same man now that you were back then. You're still the guy who met my daughter first, got her to open up when I wasn't around, something she never did at that age. Luke, I don't know how you can possibly believe her!

I mean, I guess… I guess I do. I guess I know what it's like when that woman gets in your head. You know, she's amazing at emotional blackmail. If the CIA had a department devoted to emotional blackmail, she would be the head. She knows just what buttons to press. She can just look at you, see your worst fears and turn the screw just a bit, twist your heart just a bit until all you can hear are her words, all you can see are the things that correlate with her words, all you can feel is a cold thump in your chest because her words are being etched in the stone of your grave.

Oh my God, I just realized, you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? I never told you about that. I mean, I told you I talked to Anna, and by the way I can talk to whomever I want to talk to: your ex, your sister, dead people. I'm 38 years old, Luke, you have no control over who I talk to.

Wow, I so didn't mean to get angry with you. Apparently your words are also still in my head. Actually, Luke, your words are always in my head. 'I want you to know I'm in, I am all in.' 'I love you and I'm going to marry you and at our wedding we are having lobster.' Yes Luke, your words stick with me all the time. Every time I turn on the TV and watch some movie that we watched together I can hear your complaints and constant wondering why they always make the guy so stupid. (And since you can't respond this time, I'm finally going to say, hey it took you 8 years, how smart was that?) Every time I walk into the bathroom and use my cinnamon flavored toothpaste I remember how you kept trying to get me to switch to striped. Ah, Luke….

What on earth was I talking about in the first place?

Okay, I found it, here goes. So you know I talked to Anna, after April's party, the day after. No, no that's wrong, two days after. Remember the day after the party you came home and told me that Anna was angry at you, angry at me, angry at the both of us for letting me throw the party. God Luke, I just felt so awful. I mean, from the look on your face it seemed that she had really laid into you. Part of me just wanted to grab your hands, forget the damn Chinese food, just take you upstairs and hold you tight, run my fingers through your hair, place little kisses all over your face until you were comforted, let you use my body as your home, make love to you until the only thing on your mind was that you loved me, until the only thing on your mind was me and you. And there was a part of me that felt that you agreed with Anna, that you really did blame me for what happened, that I shouldn't have hung with April and her friends or helped through the party to get you out of a freakin jam! I was just so stunned that you might be thinking that so I just sat there and let the silence envelope us, like that book that Rory read when she was younger, Night School, some book where the kids are enveloped by the dark in order to learn their greatest fears, that's exactly what it was like.

So the next day I took it upon myself to clear things up, see what Anna really said to you, explain to her that she shouldn't be using me as a reason to take your daughter away from you. And I don't know, I can't even remember what we talked about, I can't even remember what I told her to explain away what happened…

Luke, I know this is probably wrong of me to ask, but what on earth did you ever see in that woman? How could you, the decent, honest, caring, unbelievably loving man I know, want to be with someone like her? She's cruel. She'll use her daughter in a little game to make you do exactly what she wants. She thought I'd agree with what she was doing just because I had a 13 year old daughter at one point in my life? What I should have said is, excuse me lady but do you know who was the man that was the second most important person in my daughter's life at that age? You know the answer Luke. You know it was you. It was always you. When I got stuck at the inn that time and Rory was sick and I couldn't get to her, who went running to my house with soup and a thermometer and Pepto Bismol (and yes I'm still going to harass you about the Pepto Bismol)? You remember when Rory had to interview someone who wasn't family for a class and Rory was so scared because she really didn't like talking to people, especially adults, and you overheard, sat me at another table with coffee and a donut, and chatted away with Rory about everything under the sun. Tell me how that isn't being a father? Tell me how that is a person that I would be worried to have my daughter around? Most of the time, I would have rather had Rory around you than her own father!

I know it seems like maybe I'm really taking a lot out on Anna in this letter, I mean, what do I know about her? The thing is, I don't want to know, I don't care to know her. From as much as I know about her, I don't like her, it's not only because she kept April from you (which was wrong), or yelled at you about the party (also wrong), there's just something about her, an attitude, it's cold. I'm not a mean person, you know that, I don't form instant opinions about people, I gave Jess a try, many of them in fact, time and time again but he just kept hurting you or hurting my daughter until finally I just had it with him.

It's just that I told her that this was going to happen,we were going to happen, I told her that you and I were engaged, we were getting married. I told her that this wasn't just a fling, like we got drunk one night and just fell in bed together, I'm not Selma Hayek in Fools Rush In, and you, my darling, are not Matthew Perry, despite by deep love for that man. That was the truth, it wasn't like that. I told her it had been a long time coming, a long time. I told her what we had was real, a real life Hans Christian Anderson romance, Harlequin too if you want to think of it in the dirty way. (Should I insert your 'jeez' for you?) I was just trying to assure her, to get her to understand that I wasn't just going to get to know your daughter and disappear, I would never do that, that's not the kind of couple we were… or at least, it seemed… or we had been in the past… or…. We had the real thing, I'm not sure when it was anymore, but I know we had it.

Her response: engaged isn't married, people get engaged all the time.

I suppose any normal person would have shrugged off her comment, in fact normal-Lorelai would have just shot back some sarcastic reply, but I couldn't. As you well know from my questions on the Vineyard, I was already questioning whether or not we would ever get married. So her words were like the spark that lit the flame, it was all I needed, I was already wondering, but it was that little spark, someone else telling me it wasn't going to happen, that was all it took to convince me I had lost you forever, that we were never going to get married. In the days that followed I could hear nothing but those 8 words in my head, swirling around, beating against my brain. You know that picture in Gulliver's Travels of giant Gulliver with all the men all over him attacking him? That was those little words on my brain. I couldn't even face you, I came up with lie after lie so that I wouldn't have to face you, so that I wouldn't have to see the end. I knew it was coming, I could feel it, it wasn't going to happen, I was losing you, I had lost already and she had won, April had won, my mother, the world, the fates, everyone had won. I loved you so much that I just couldn't handle you finally saying those words, that we were over. My love wasn't enough for you, it wasn't enough to keep you, nothing I did was enough to get you to love me forever.

I remember handing the ring back to Max. It was rough, but necessary. I didn't love him. I never loved him. There was someone out there for him, but it wasn't me. He was a great guy, truly wonderful, but not the one for me. In the end, I think he understood that. So even though it was hard, for both of us, I actually came out of it feeling more relieved than anything else.

I remember one night, sometime between talking to Anna and yelling at you in the street, I layed there in our bed with the ring in my hand just staring at it. I was trying to imagine the scene in which I would hand you back the ring, this beautiful ring that sits in my nightstand here, in a drawer, in a box, that I won't open, but it's there, I know it is. The ring is so beautiful and even more amazing because you picked it out yourself. You looked at it and saw me, I looked at it and saw us. For that entire year, whenever I looked at that gorgeous ring, whether it was at the Dragonfly, or in our house, at the diner, at the batcave (aka my parents' place), I was reminded of the future, our future, our forever, our life together and it was all I needed. Until, it seemed that the sparkle began to fade and what was once an iridescent diamond became cloudy and when I looked at the ring, all I could see was question marks.

But I still have the ring. I wonder if I took it out of its pretty little box ring now, just a few short days after you came and surprised me and stayed here for those three wonderful days, after you held my hand when you saw your son for the first time and laid your hand on my belly so you could feel him kick. What would I see? Would it still be dim? Would it be dark? I don't think so. I think your visit let all the evils out, erased all the ominous fog, you opened Pandora's box. So what's left? Hope. Hope is left.

After all of that, I still haven't fully answered your question. Next letter, I promise.

Right now my hand is aching and I'm tired because your son, the next big soccer superstar, decided that Mommy didn't need her sleep last night. I don't care if you want him to be an athlete, he can at least wait to start practicing until he's actually born. So, I really did want to take these last moments to mention your first letter. God, Luke, it was magnificent. I mean not only did you date it the day you left and send it out that day (seeing as it was postmarked last Sunday), you wrote it on the plane, you wrote it on Continental Airlines stationary. You didn't even know that I had written you that last letter before you wrote this one. Okay, I'm just going to copy it word for word.

_Lorelai,_

_I miss you already._

_Luke_

What can I say that would do any justice to that?

With every step I take and every move I make,

_Lorelai_


	12. August 19, 2006

This letter is dedicated to **Kasia**, who inspired me with a picture and loves the future little Danes boy.

**Warning: this chapter may contain material that is sensitive for some people, it's nothing to do with the rating of the fic. You'll understand when you get there.**

* * *

_August 19th, 2006_

My love,

So you're reserving your thoughts on Anna until you receive a final reply to your question? I suppose that's only fair. After all, I never actually answered your real question in my last letter. I meant to. I swear it. You know that happens sometimes, the tangents and everything. I thought you liked that about me. Made me unpredictable. Kept you from getting bored by me. I thought that would be enough. I thought if you were always fascinated by me, I'd never lose you. Did I become too predictable? Is that what happened?

I mean, you say you miss me, but what exactly do you miss about me? What exactly made you get on that plane, think back about our weekend together and make you realize your heart was aching for me? We never kissed. Apart from that eternal hug we shared when you arrived, we barely connected, barely touched until that hug at the airport. Okay, that's not fair... or true...

Remember the ride on the Ferris Wheel? I wanted to take you around Paris, show you all the big sites that every tourist should see but you kept saying no. To the Louvre. To Notre Dame. Even the Eiffel Tower (a second time for me). So we ended up in that park, Toulierie's Gardens, outside the Louvre standing in front of that Ferris Wheel, Caroussel, and all I could think was that it was hot and we had been walking forever and ever, at least that's what it felt like to poor, little, six months pregnant, me. I mean, it was great. Just spending time together. Just hours and hours of Luke and Lorelai time. It was all ours. Nohting else mattered but that I could hear your voice without the static over the phone. I could look into your eyes without the glossiness of the light reflecting off the picture I keep next to my bed. I can't even begin to explain that feeling, maybe like Ilsa felt seeing Rick after all that time.

But we didn't need them to pay our song to remember. Do we even have a song? I mean, when I was little and I would see all these fabulous romances in the movies, all the couples had a song. As Time Goes By. The Way We Were. Evergreen. Unchained Melody. You see I could go on and on, right? So all those couples had a song. What song was it that I could hear and instantly be reminded of you? What song would we have danced to at our wedding?

Do you think about that ride on the Ferris Wheel? I begged you to ride with me, knowing you were afraid of heights. Maybe I was testing you. I could always get you to do anything you didn't want to do . I got you to pay $52.50 for two Pop Tarts and a Slim Jim long before we were even together. I got you to be in the dance marathon we me. Remember? Last year? When Rory was off finding herself, being Miss Pearl Necklace or whatever. It was wonderful. It was some of the greatest twenty-four hours of my life because I had reason to be in your arms for twenty-four hours straight. Not that I wouldn't have wanted to anyways, but normally you came up with excuses like work and food to leave me. Sure, I guess those are okay excuses, but just once I'd like to lie in bed with your strong, safe arms around me for hours on end. Just listening to your voice and hearing you breathe, hearing the life flowing through you, the life I can't live without.

I can't imagine it. I can't imagine what it would have been like if that moment when I walked away from you that night was the last time I ever saw you. I can still remember those first weeks here, I'm sure you remember those letters, every moment I feared what you were thinking, I feared your response to my letters, I was so scared that I would discover that I had lost you forever. I mean, I thought I deserved that. I remember when I got your first letter I could scarcely breathe, I was so relieved and yet, I was frightened of the few lines on the paper that was contained within those envelopes. Don't you think I had a right to be? I mean, if I had lost you, if you had said you just couldn't do it, you didn't want to try, you just couldn't love me anymore, I would have understood. It would have been over. I would have been empty, lost, broken, unfixable, somehow not that far from how I was feeling before our fight that night in the street.

You know, sometimes I think about all those women, those widows, and I just wonder. I met this woman last year at the Dragonfly, Dana Wassey, she was having one of those beautiful Saturday afternoon weddings that I loved planning so much. I probably mentioned her to you, I can't remember. No, maybe not, I think it was in March… we didn't really talk much in March. Anyways, Dana was from New York City (your favorite place to visit) but she wanted a nice quiet, country inn, kind of wedding. Her mother had stayed at the Dragonfly a year before and suggested us, which was nice. This was actually going to be Dana's second wedding. You see, she had married for the first time back in April of 2000. Her husband's name was Bob and they had a beautiful life up in NYC, I mean it wasn't anything you or I would ever want, fast paced and all that, but they loved it. And a year after they married, they had a little girl, Samantha, Sami. I met her, she was just the most adorable little 6 year old. But in September of the year that Sami was born, Bob went to work as he always did and never came home. You see, Bob worked in the first tower of the World Trade Center. Dana said the moment she heard what happened, she just knew it, she knew he was gone, she didn't have to call him on his cell phone, she didn't have to watch the TV, she didn't have to wait for a sign from someone who worked with him, she just knew it. Because every part of herself that she had once shared with him, her mind, her heart, her soul, felt empty and void of life.

I can only imagine what that must have been like, to really lose the love of your life through no fault of your own. I guess that was the difference between Dana and I, if I had lost you, it would have been my fault. She was able to move on, it took time, it took the love of her friends and family and Sami. It took the love and understanding of Jason, her new husband, a man so completely different from Bob that it was like starting her life all over again. She was able to finally accept what happened, accept that it wasn't her fault, and believe that Bob would have wanted her to move on, that he would have wanted her to be happy. And from everything she ever told me about Bob, I'm sure that's exactly what he would have wanted for Dana.

Now, just thinking about her, I feel so incredibly lucky. I feel so fortunate that you love me enough to forgive me, that you're so kind and compassionate that you can understand what I was going through at the time. I just can't imagine ever doing what Dana did, starting my whole life over without out you. The world is crazy Luke, it really is. If anyone deserved not to lose someone, it was Dana. Between me and her, it was Dana. Do you think it's possible that all of this is just a way for The Powers That Be to tell us that we're idiots to think that love can be eternal? That we're foolish to believe that two people can fall in love and live that little fairy tale 'happily ever after'?

Speaking of fate… it wasn't surprising to me that the first time I won the Dance Marathon was when you were my partner. It's like fate was waiting for us to finally get together before letting my dream come true.

Anyways, I wasn't testing you when I wanted you to ride that Ferris Wheel. I don't think I was. I mean, I'm not the only one of us that can get the other to do things we don't want to do. You made me drive to Litchfield to go to that lobster place last February just so you could try lobster again. But it ended up being a nice evening out after all, you couldn't get that grin off your face or the delight out of your voice the whole time you were there. Besides we both know that we have to repay our debts when we get each other to do things we don't want to do. And that can be just as fun. (Maybe more.) There's nothing like knowing that after I get you to do something you don't want to do, I'll get to hear you moan my name in pleasure that night. The magical way you say my name… Luke, it's so sexy, the melody of it, tender and passionate. Goosebumps. I swear, my mouth is dry. Luke…

I'd better get off this subject…

Remember when they stopped us at the top of the Ferris Wheel? I saw your face go white, your hand grabbed mine and, even in the heat of these summer months, it was freezing. I did all I could do, Luke. I leaned against you, laid my head on your shoulder, pulled your arm around me. I laid your other hand on my belly, laying mine over yours so that we were connected. You. Me. And our son. I think I wondered who you were getting more strength from: him or me. I think it was him. He's not even born. He doesn't even have a name, but he's your son and you love him.

He's a part of you.

That's how I know you'll be a good father. Because I know how you love. Fiercely. Passionately. Eternally. You'll do anything to protect the ones you love and blame yourself whenever something goes wrong in their lives, even if there's nothing you could have done about it.

Yes, it's true, you're more an actions man than words man. You said that the night we first kissed, remember? You said that you let your actions speak for you. And it's true in more than romance. You don't say it, we've all just got to trust in your love. And that's easy to do if you've always been loved, as our son will be. He'll never have a reason to doubt love at all, not for a second, because there won't be a moment in his life that he'll be unloved. Not by me. Not by you. We'll make sure of that. You and I, together, we'll make sure of that.

You know, maybe that's what our song should say. When and if we finally get married, maybe that's what we want to remind each other. That should be the purveying theme of our union.

Then again, maybe it's enough to know it and feel it and understand that love surrounds us and brings us together as a couple, that it will bring us together as a family, you and me and…well whatever we call him. Maybe it's enough that we know we live more for each other, we'll live more for our son, than for ourselves. Maybe that's how Dana got through, she lived for Sami, and when the time came and she found Jason, a man who loved her and would do anything for her, she allowed herself to let him live for her too. Do you think that's something we feared? I mean, do you think that we allowed our relationship to slip away from us because we feared that we would never again be the independent people, the bachelor or bachelorette for life, that we once were?

Maybe before we decide to officially get back together, we should figure out why. We should understand that we're not doing it just for the baby Danes that lives inside me, that we would want to be together even if we would never be parents of a child together. That we're just so damn happy to be together and we're so so so lucky that we get to be parents of our own child as well.

Luke, I want you to know this, I want to you to understand this: there is no one I'd rather have a child with than you. There's no one I know that will love my child more than you and no one I know that my child will love more than you. If you believe that, I mean really believe it, then I don't have to ask anymore if you'll be here when your son is born.

With never-ending love,

_Lorelai_


	13. August 26 2006

_August 26th, 2006_

Hey Baby,

Yeah I know that three months is a really long time. A _really _long time. And I don't know why but I feel like as time goes by three months only gets further and further away. Obviously that's not true but that's what it feels like. Maybe time goes slower when you miss someone. What do you think?

Can I ask you a question? I don't know why I wrote that, it's not like you can really say no, can you? Do you think you'll ever finish that boat? I mean you work on it all the time. I remember nights when you couldn't sleep and I'd know right where to find you. You knew that I couldn't sleep then either? Somehow I just knew, I felt it that you weren't there, even in a deep sleep I knew when you weren't there next to me, when you weren't there holding me tight.

That reminds me of what I was thinking about the other day. I convinced Stephen, one of the guys who works down stairs, to come upstairs and move the TV into my bedroom. Yeah I'm becoming what you knew I would become, this pregnant lady who can't get off her ass to walk into the living room. It's just that I'm so tired these days. I've got pounds and pounds of extra weight and I'm guessing that this is what it would be like if my eating habits ever caught up with me. Then again all I've been craving lately is salad, lots and lots of salad, piled high with lettuce and peppers and carrots and some veggies that I have to search around for because they're not actually grown in France. Yeah sometimes I really feel like a stupid American. What was I saying, oh yeah the TV. So I was remembering when you bought me that TV just so I would stay over more often. That was so sweet Luke. So unbelievably, sweet. But you're absolutely crazy if you think you needed to get a TV to convince me to stay of, you're absolutely, Melvin Udall using 20 soap bars to clean his hands, crazy if you really think that was necessary. I was completely addicted to you Luke, I still am.

In case you're worried right now, Stephen was only up here for a minute. I just whined like a little girl until he came up and moved it for me and then felt so bad about it that I tipped him the equivalent of twenty dollars. Sorry but I have no control over this, it's how I am. You know it too. Like the time I was craving a hamburger with barbeque sauce on it so bad that I begged you to go to Doose's to get some, since you stopped stocking it that year, and I felt so bad after you did that I ate all of it even though I wasn't that hungry and tipped you two hundred percent. You never commented about it, you never said anything. And then a few days later I noticed the same amount of money, still looking brand new, still crisp, only folded in half now, underneath the cow in the center of my kitchen table. You're pretty sneaky, you know that?

How on earth did I get on this subject? Luke, what it must be like for you reading these letters. Yours are so wonderful, clear and concise. Right to the point. Just like I would have expected. And you know what, my favorite part is the last line. Every time. Always the same. Always… just so perfect.

_I love you, Lorelai. Don't ever doubt my love._

You know, I have to fight the urge to skim to the end just to read that. It's like when I read a novel and I so so so want to skip to the end to see what happens and normally I do. You know that. I remember when we both decided we were going to read that book that Sookie recommended, My Sister's Keeper, and we had to do it when each other wasn't home because when we were and it was nighttime we had better things to do. Right? Of course right. When we walked out of the bookstore you grabbed the bag out of my hand and made me promise not flip to the end. I can't believe I gave in. I can't believe I was able to do that. It's not in my nature. It's not the Lorelai Gilmore way. But I did it and it was so worth it. Especially because I finished first and I made you let me watch you read the last part so I could see if you cried because otherwise I know you would have lied to me. Don't tell me you wouldn't have, I know you. Rory's right, you're an old softy inside.

So anyways, I think maybe it's because of that moment, of seeing how it is not to know what's coming, that I don't skip to the end of your letters. But of course I do. I do know what's coming. It's always there. And I hope it always will be. At least until May 26th.

So about the boat… are you really ever going to finish it? I just want to know. I want to know why you think you're working on it. Is it for your Dad? Is it for you? I mean, I know you work on it because it brings you closer to him but I'm just wondering. When I come home, will it still be in my garage? I love you Luke and I know that change is hard for you. I know you sometimes wish you could go back to age twenty-seven and figure out some way to make it not happen, to keep him from dying, to give up your entire life, your friends, Rachel, everything, so you could spend all your time with him. But Luke, it doesn't work like that. You can't go back in the past and change things to the way you want them. I know that as well as you do. There's a whole list of things I would do if I could change the past. I wouldn't have walked away. I would have told you about getting drunk at Christopher's when his dad died. I would have found a way to win the lottery long before Rory ever decided she wanted to go to Chilton so I wouldn't have been forced into Friday Night Dinners. I would have figured out something to say to my dad when he was in the hospital that night.

I'll never forget that night. As long as I live, I'll never forget it. When I came home from the hospital, dead tired, emotionally drained and found you there, sitting on my porch, like you belonged there. Luke, I can't even tell you what that did to me. You know, we had some good times on that porch, on those stairs. When you made me the chuppah. When you told me you married and were divorcing Nicole. When you checked the house for termites. We had lots of good chats on those stairs but this one, this was the best one.

I don't even remember how I got out of my car or how I ended up next to you on the porch but that's what happened. I just settled down on the porch next to you, threw my purse at the side and laid my head on your shoulder. I was so completely wasted of everything. And all you asked was if my dad was really okay. Unbelievable.

I think I was too selfish that night. Instead of answering your question I went on and on about my mother and how annoying she was. I talked about how relieved I was that I made up with Rory. I teased you about your fear of hospitals, but I never said anything about the one thing you had asked about. Luke, it wasn't that I didn't hear you. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell you. It's just that there were no words. I knew you missed your dad, I knew you loved him, I knew you missed him a lot because of the things you didn't say. How could I have said anything that could have compared?

All I ever did was complain to you about my dad. He was a great dad, I think, at least he would have been if I had been the daughter he would have wanted. If I would have been the child who silently went through life doing exactly what her parents wanted, he would have been great. He offered me everything. He wanted me to have everything. He wanted me to be happy and go to Vassar and marry well and have all the things that a girl of my status deserved. I should have wanted it. I'm still not sure how I came out the person that I am. I mean my mom is so… well, my mom. And my dad is, well… you know that too. They're just not like me. Are they? I mean I don't want that kind of life. I never did. At the age of 2, I was already trying to figure out how to get out of functions by drawing on the walls and getting sent to my room. That should have given them a clue.

So when I left home at 17, I never looked back. I mean I knew I didn't want to be there anymore. I knew I was stifled there, I couldn't breathe, it wasn't the place for me, especially not the place for me to raise Rory. And I never wanted to go back, I never wanted to live there again. Sometimes I wonder if Rory hadn't needed money for Chilten, if I would have ever gotten any closer to my parents. I wonder if I would have ever realized how much I did want them in my life without actually living with them.

What I'm trying to say, Luke, is that I wasn't sure how I could be relieved that my dad was okay when all I did was complain about him, while you, who loved your dad beyond belief, didn't have him around anymore. It just wasn't fair! It wasn't fair to you is what I mean. It's not that I wish ill on my father, it's just that you loved yours so much. Love. You still do. It's in your eyes when you talk about him. It's in the way you work on that boat. It's in the way that you put your hand on my belly and I knew that you were trying to think of what it must have been like for your dad, to know that your son is inside, to know that he's all yours, to know that you have all these hopes and dreams for him and all you can do is believe that he can do it.

Is that why you worry? I mean, do you worry that something's going to happen to you and you won't be around? Do you worry that you might miss out on some of his life?

You will. Oh Luke you will.

And now I feel so… unbelievably foolish and awful. You know Luke, if I had known I was pregnant, I would have never left. I wouldn't have. You know I wouldn't have. But we needed this. To think that we've come so far in these three months. We couldn't have done that if I had stayed.

I remember that night, the night after I got back from the hospital, when I laid my head on your shoulder and you let me go on about ridiculous things, you just put your arm around me and listened. We watched the snow fall and it was beautiful. Peaceful. And I remember you were tired the next morning when Rory and I went to the diner to get coffee and I felt bad. I felt bad because I was the reason you were so tired. You had stayed up late to listen to me go on and on about nothing and I didn't even answer your question. So that morning I was incredibly nice to you, I didn't harass you once (which I think weirded out both you and Rory), I left you an extra large tip, and I came by the next day with that blue cap you always wear. But you know that's how I am when I feel bad about things like that. But you, you are something else. There was no griping Luke that night, no grumpy Luke, just you. The guy I could always depend on. Even before we were together, you were always the one, the only who was always there and I knew it but I didn't know it. You get my logic. And you'll always be there as long as you're wearing that cap, huh?

I should get our son a cap. A little blue one. And a flannel too, right?

With faith in your love,

_Lorelai_


	14. September 2, 2006

_September 2, 2006_

A mi amour,

See, I'm really getting into this whole French thing! I think my French vocabulary has actually grown by ten or so words since you were here. Just think, if I keep going at this rate, your son's first words could be in French. Then, of course, he wouldn't be able to form a cohesive sentence with the French vocabulary I've put together made up of food words and polite words that I keep on hand to use for the guests at the inn. I don't even know, how do you say Mother in French (and I don't mean the way I use it jokingly towards my own mother…)? I have heard that pere is father. That one I'll be sure to teach him.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. Our son. I was trying to imagine what he'd be like, what he would become, who he would become. I think when I was pregnant with Rory, it wasn't really real to me. I mean I knew that things would change. I knew that I'd come home from the hospital with a little baby in my arms but I think I never imagined what that would really be like. Mom had a decorator come in and put together a nursery, she did it in yellow because I didn't know if Rory would be a boy or a girl. I remember that when I'd walk the hallways of the house, I'd always pause at the doorway to the nursery. I think I was trying to imagine a little baby in the crib or changing my baby on the changing table, and I just couldn't see it. Even that night, even when I was in labor, it was just a process, it was just something happening with my body, somehow it still wasn't real.

All of that changed the moment they put her in my arms. I know they say that newborns can't focus on anything but I swear when she opened her eyes, she saw me. She knew who I was. She trusted me. That was the moment she became my daughter, my love, my heart. She was a part of me and I wanted nothing more than just to hold to her to me, keep her with me always. But children grow up, don't they?

But he's real. Just less than three months before his due date and I can already picture him. I know his smell. I know the sound he'll when he cries and I know the way he'll look up at me as if I was his whole world. There are nights when I'll just go into the nursery that Rory and I decorated, in blue, there is no new blue for us, and I'll sit down in that rocking chair we bought when you were here, and I can feel him. Not just his kicks, which he does more and more, you might have to add him to your soccer team. No much more than that. He's there. His presence is everywhere. And I love him.

I've never known this kind of love before. I mean I know it's a new experience for you too, but it's the truth. Yes, I've had a child before, but somehow I think I didn't feel it until she was placed in my arms. But our son…. This feeling is so great, it fills me, fills every part of me, except the emptiness that you left behind when you got on that plane. It's so hard to feel so full and yet so very very empty at the same time. I'm a paradox unto myself.

The love of a child is such an amazing thing, I don't think I need to tell you about that. You have April. You loved her immediately, I know you did. I remember that night when I went to your apartment after the Winter Carnival and you were reading in bed and I refused to climb in next to you. You seemed hurt but maybe you just didn't understand. It wasn't because I was angry or hurt, actually I think I was but just didn't want to realize that, but more than that I just needed to know. I needed this distance to give you space to tell me the whole story, every piece of information you had kept from me for over two months. So I pulled up a chair next to your side of the bed and let you slowly piece things together for me. It was the longest night of my life, other than the night that Rory was born. You talked for almost an hour about the day you first saw her, the science fair, your conversations with Anna, the times you spent with April up until that moment I found her filling salt shakers in your diner. And then you spent another hour trying to apologize and explain how stupid and foolish you were. I'm still not even sure I heard everything because I was watching your eyes, there was this new spark in them, and every time you mentioned her name it flashed. Did you even know it that? Did you know you loved her? It's okay to love her Luke, she's your daughter. Just because you didn't know her for 12 and some years doesn't mean you can't love her from the instant you meet her, the moment you know she is yours, she's a part of you.

You used to go on and on about her to me and even though it upset me that I couldn't be a part of that area of your life, I couldn't help but admire the way you talked about her. You were every bit the proud Papa. I mean your reason for wanting to keep us apart made me want to hug you and strangle you at the same time. You just wanted her to love you, for her to adore you like any child would their father, just as Rory once did for Chris, no matter what he did, she always thought the world of him. But really, that's how it is Luke. She searched you out. She asked you on the trip with her. She let you meet her friends and told you about her crush, and let me tell you that's a big thing. You remember when Rory kept Dean a secret from me for so long.

It's funny, I keep thinking about this movie I used to watch, must have seen it about 10 times. I think have it around the house somewhere if you actually get up the urge to see it, the tape is labeled St. Elsewhere though, but sorry no Ed Flanders or the sexiness that is Mark Harmon on that tape. It was a movie called Small Sacrifices. Farrah Fawcett is in it and, yes, I do look cool when I do the whole Farrah hairstyle. Anyways, it's the true story of this woman, Diane Downs, who was convicted in the shooting of her own three children. Although she never admitted to the crime, her daughter, the one that survived, testified that Diane had done it. The movie basically is shown through the mind of the prosecutor as he tries to figure out if she did the crime and why she might have. After searching through her diaries and discovering Diane's obsessive love for a married man named Lew Lewiston, a man who told Diane that he couldn't be with her because he didn't want to be a father to her children, the prosecutor decided that Diane must have chosen the love for this man over her own children. It's a brilliant movie, but Luke, that's some amazing insanity she's got going on.

I love you, Darling, and you know that, but my love for you is so different from the love I have for Rory and even the love I have for our unborn son. Neither love is greater than another. It's different. To have to chose between you and Rory would be ridiculous, I'd take myself out of the situation first. I can't imagine that.

You know I was thinking about all of this yesterday because I took the day off of work. I wasn't feeling well as you know because I called you. By the way I think it's funny that you, the workaholic between the two of us, told me to take the day off and get some rest. So I did, I relaxed around the apartment for a little while, but then I got restless, sometimes I just can't handle being lazy and I need to get out in the world, breathe the fresh air of this beautiful city. I took the train to the Luxembourg Gardens. I've been hearing so much about them that I just had to go, it seemed like a nice place to relax outside, take in some real beauty. And it's true, the gardens are so beautiful. There's just miles and miles of the greenest grass that you ever saw, so much greenery that even the Irish would be jealous. The edges of the grass are taken up by brilliantly colored flowers: purples and oranges and reds and yellows. In the center of the park is this large fountain surrounded by a pond. I just sat down on one of the benches there and lost track of time, just sat there lost in my thoughts, watching the children play in the fountain.

There were these two adorable little children, I think they were French because when their mother walked over to retrieve them, I didn't understand a word she said. But that's not the point. There was a little girl and a little boy, he was the elder of the two. She looked about two or three, with a mass of dark curls, splashing around in the water next to her brother, of a taller height with a shy look to his face, who seemed about seven or eight. He just let her do what she wanted but I noticed that he never stopped paying attention to her. When she would fall over, he was there in an instant to pick her up. When she would wander a few feet away from him, he kept his eye on her. Nothing could distract him. Even when his mother came over to talk to him, he never took his eyes off of his little sister. But the little girl, she was in her own little world, she was having the time of her life, the whole world was hers to conquer. Yet when her brother called to her, she was by his side instantly. I remember at one point she reached her arms up to him and he lifted her up in his arms and she couldn't stop grinning. He really was her protector and she was just a little imp but the most important thing in his life.

You know there were so many children there over the course of the day but I barely noticed any of the others. Long after the mother had gathered the two up and whisked them away, I couldn't stop thinking about them. I don't know why. Maybe it's this pregnancy that's got me thinking about children. But we'll never have that, will we? Two children who are indebted to each other? Our son will never have a little sister to watch over. We waited too long. I guess thinking of that is too much, I should be happy with what I have. I should be grateful that I'm pregnant with your darling son, that I've got you and I've got Rory. I should be thankful that I'm pregnant because otherwise I might never have gotten you back. I don't mean that like it sounds.

Or maybe I do.

I'm trying to remember, Luke. I'm trying to remember back to your letters before I called and told you I was pregnant. Just a few words tossed on a page, a little about Lane, some notes about Paul Anka, and that was it. You didn't even start writing that perfect last line until after I found out I was pregnant. And I don't know, I can't tell. What was it that convinced you to come here? What was it that convinced you to write those words of love at the bottom of every letter? What was it that made you open up and finally start to let me back in?

This is the only reason I've ever wished I wasn't pregnant… I want to know I would have somehow gotten you back even if we weren't have about to be parents to our darling boy.

I'm like the opposite of Diane Downs. She wanted to get rid of her kids to be with the love of her life. I have to have my kids to be with the love of my life.

You know, somewhere in my mind I have this image of us. You and me. Years from now. We're older, but we still look like we're in our thirties. I mean you are as handsome as ever and I know every time you look at me you're reminded that I'm beautiful. (Don't laugh.) It's ten years from now and we've come to Paris to show our son the city where he was born and I've convinced you to visit the Luxumbourg Gardens. So there we are, on that exact same bench I sat on, your arms wrapped around me, watching our kids, our son and daughter, our little protector and our little imp. I know it's a dream, but dreams can come true, right?

Avec amour,

_Lorelai_


	15. September 9, 2006

_September 9, 2006_

Hun,

Oh… wow. I never expected this, I mean I never thought about it. Normally when I write you letters I already can hear your thoughts as I'm writing, maybe I should remember to always do that because I didn't see this coming. Maybe being sick last week had something to do with it, you remember that I was sick, right? No, forget it, I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to blame the sickness just like I won't blame alcohol or Christopher for the fact that it was me who walked away from you and slept with my ex.

I'm sorry Luke. I'm sorry that after all those letters, after all the times you reminded me not to doubt your love, somehow, without realizing it, I did just that. Guilt. That's what I feel right now. Nothing but guilt and sorrow for the last letter I sent. So let me see if I can fix this. Give me a chance Luke. Please. I know that by getting you to write me letters is more than enough of a chance. You are more than I ever deserved. I mean, read what you wrote!

_Lorelai, your letter makes me wonder if you know me at all. I love you, I've told you that time and again. Yes, the fact that we're having a child together is great, but it's not what brought me back to you. You never lost me. Not for a second. You walked away. You cheated on me. Yes, I was angry, I had a right to be. Yes, I was upset, I had a right to be. But I never stopped loving you. I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you, no matter what you do, I can't change my heart, I wouldn't begin to know how, and I really have no desire to do that._

Oh Luke… Did I ever tell you the truth about when I first realized I loved you? That night, that Dark Day of yours, the first one when we were together, that was the night I realized it. But it wasn't when you came to Patty's, it wasn't when you told me that I had done the right thing by buying that boat. It was hours before that. I can still see the look on your face when you yelled at me that night outside of my garage, trying to pretend like you weren't in pain from Mrs. Thompson's hundreds of thigh masters that had jumped up and bit you. I swear, Suzanne Somers made a huge chunk off of that woman. After you stomped away, I think about five minutes passed by and I just stood there, all of those precious seconds wasting away and I just stood there. I couldn't chase after you. I couldn't go where Sookie and Patty were expecting me. I just stood there, staring at the boat, hoping that if I stood there long enough, maybe you'd sense that I was dying a little bit along with you, maybe you'd come back. The only true thought in my mind in that moment was that I can't lose this man. I can't lose you. You really were the one real person in my life, the only one who got me, the only one who just wanted me to be me.

That night, Luke, I got you. Long before that I had figured out that you weren't just the person you pretended to be, just the man who served the coffee, grudgingly most of the time. You were more than the front you put up, so much more, and especially to me. You were a good friend when I needed a heart-to-heart, my teacher to the lessons of love and life, my kick in the ass when I was being the stubborn mule I often turn into. You were already the moon and the stars long before you ever touched your hand to my waist at Liz's wedding or your lips to mine that night at the Dragonfly. I think I already loved you then, years before I realized it. I just needed to mature, to take a chance, to look beyond your grumbles and gripes to really see it, to understand that you had always been there for me.

Sometimes I used to wonder what it would be like if I had never met you. Can you imagine it? Maybe you already have. Is that why I never lost you?

_I watched you walk away from me that night and I felt you were disappearing from my life. Even in those moments, I was still confused, still trying to figure things out, but Lorelai, the thought of losing you scared me to death. I should hate it. That no matter what you do, my life would be so much worse without you in it, but it's true. If I had never met you, Lorelai, my life would have never been complete. I would have been living but not really alive.  
_

I don't know why you ever told me you don't have a way with words.

I remember that night at Ms. Patty's anniversary show. I remember feeling so empty. It's not just a corny statement I think, to call you my other half. Wait, as I look back at what I wrote, yes it is corny. Does that saying only apply to married couples?

You know something, I don't think I ever told you this, but I remember those nights that you'd go to bed early. We'd lie in bed next to each other. You were completely passed out. I swear if I bomb dropped next door, it wouldn't have woken you up. After John Stewart and Jay Leno. Was Craig Kilborn still on? I can't remember, but he was pretty funny. Well if not him then after the new Craig of the Late Late Show. I would turn off the TV, slide in under the blankets and snuggle in next to you. Then I'd lean over and whisper to you that I loved you, like it was my own little secret. I wanted to tell you, really tell you, so badly, but I just… I couldn't. The words kept getting caught in my throat. But at least I had said it, so many times I said it, you just never knew until that night at the Empire State Building.

Some say love is like a rose, well no, Bette Midler said that. But maybe Vanessa Williams said it right, I can't really remember, it's been so long since I heard that song. Love. It's powerful. This love I have for you, even back then, it was so strong. You know, sometimes I could scarcely breathe around you, looking at you, breathing in your scent. And when you would hold me close, I felt I could just dissolve in your arms. Those night and days when I had to live without you, without your arms, without your presence, for whatever reason, I crumbled inside. I guess, not knowing how it was to be in love, made life bearable for all those years before we got together, but once I knew what it was like, once I found what I had in you, support, protection, adoration, love, friendship, all of that and more, to live without it was unbearable.

When Rory came to visit she brought me a gift, the 5th season of ER. You know how much I love my TV shows on DVD! I'm still waiting for the day that you give in and watch my brand new Little House on the Prairie DVDs with me. Bucktooth Melissa Gilbert is adorable and Manly was so hot, he's got those blue eyes I love. Him and Rob Lowe and Matthew Perry… well, and you of course. But I was talking about ER…

I couldn't sleep last night, your son was being incredibly active, mostly taking it out on my bladder, so I ended up curling up in that lounge chair I have that's halfway between my bathroom and my bed and watching the DVDs. After watching a couple episodes, I settled in to watch The Storm, the amazing two-part episode to exit George Clooney out of the show. Yeah, I know my love for George is completely without reason, I mean his eyes are brown, but he's still sexy somehow. I love teasing you with this, because you know you're the sexiest guy in the world. You with your baby blues and adorable, boyish smile, those tight muscles, and… Hmm…. Where was I?

Ah yes, The Storm. Such a sad episode because Doug and Carol were one of those couples that you just had to root for, that you'd be ashamed to say you're not a fan of. I remember when Rory commented that Shep and Carol looked good together, I froze her out for a week. Yeah, she didn't make that mistake again. Smart girl. So it was sad when George Clooney decided to leave, I mean happy for him, he got to be Danny Ocean and win that Oscar, which must have been nice, but then Carol had to go a whole year without him and that was just sad to see. They tried to pair Carol up with that Croatian guy and it just didn't work, because she and Doug belonged together. Even before their twins were born, even before she even knew she was pregnant with his children, she missed him, she considered following him, but she couldn't because she was so damn angry with him and she had a right to be. He found ways to screw up their relationship time and again, but no matter what he did, she could never stop loving him. How did I end up being Doug?

The thing I was trying to say or, actually, tell you about, was that last scene, well Doug and Carol's last scene. She begged him to stay, but he wouldn't, he couldn't. And you know what really stuck with me? Carol watching him watching away and calling his name only to say that she "didn't want to wake up alone tomorrow". She couldn't go with him and she knew it because she still loved him, she still wanted to be with him and she was going to miss him.

Oh Luke, I miss you so much. You're an ocean away and it's just so far. Since I first read your letter all I wished was that it wasn't this late in my pregnancy because I'd be on a plane in a heartbeat just to be with you. Hell, I'd fly the damn thing myself if that's what it took to get back to you. Has enough time passed?

I hate waking up alone Luke, I really do.

I guess that leads me to the next part of your letter…

_And Lorelai, if none of what I said makes any difference at all, if you still can't believe it, if you still wonder why I came to Paris and why I keep writing these letters, look at what else I sent you._

A plane ticket, Luke. You sent me a plane ticket to Paris. I'm staring at it right now and I want to put it under my pillow and sleep with it at night. It's a plane ticket to Paris for one Lucas Danes dated May 27th, 2006 set to leave at 10:05 AM. That wasn't even 24 hours after I boarded.

I can't believe it. I can't believe you went to the airport the morning after I left preparing to get on a plane to come here and… What were you going to do? Bring me back? Apologize? Yell at me? Move in?

The answer is yes. Yes, I do believe you. Yes, I'm done doubting you. Forever. You are amazing, Luke, you really are and I wonder if I ever tell you that enough. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you fall in love with me because you deserve someone better, you deserve someone who's not me. Can one night of infidelity ever equal months of small betrayals? I don't know. Sometimes I'm so incredibly angry with you but then I glance over at your picture or feel your son shift inside of me and then I'm just so incredibly furious with myself. But I'll never regret falling in love with you, I'll never regret meeting you. I wouldn't be who I am without you.

_I love you, Lorelai. Don't ever doubt my love._

Yeah Luke, that's one big ditto from me to you.

With an aching heart,

_Lorelai_


	16. September 23, 2006

_September 23rd, 2006_

Darling Luke,

So I guess I should begin with my apology. I didn't expect that it would be that big a deal for me to wait another week to write back to you until I got that phone call from you on Tuesday. Luke, I can't think that I've ever heard you so worried. You'd think that we lived in the 1700s and my letters were my only lifeline to you. And you didn't ask if your son was okay, you asked if I was okay. I'm fine. He's fine too by the way. We're both fine. But your phone call did make me smile, I mean I know you miss me and vice versa, but you were so worried, it was… honest to goodness Luke, I just loved it.

I find it sweet that you actually look for my letters, that you're not just finding this some crazy process I'm putting you through. I mean, I know you read them. I find it fun sometimes to close my eyes and picture you reading the letters. Do you flip through them quickly in the diner so they're coverd with grease and ketchup stains? Do you set them aside until it's late at night so you can settle in your chair and slowly process every word? Have you noticed the smell of them? I'll let you in on a little secret, I cover my hand with the peachy vanilla lotion you love before I write them so you can't forget my smell.

They say that babies recognize people by smells like cats do. You know how Apricot walks up and sniffs your hand before getting near you? She loves males, only males, that crazy cat. She loves you and she loves Morey but she's still skittish around Babette who babies that cat like it's her child.

They say babies do that too. Before babies can recognize familiar things or focus on objects and people, they know their parents by their smell. I think maybe adults can do that too. I could tell without turning around that you had walked into the room. You had that greasy diner smell, but not just that, it was manly and tender and homey. I wanted to curl up in that smell, take a bath in it so it would never leave. In fact, I have that flannel you left behind next to me right now. I was thinking about making a blanket out of it. Not for me, of course, for our son. So that no matter what, even if you're far away, he'll always be surrounded by his Daddy's smell. So he'll always feel you near him. And even when your voice sounds so far away over the phone, and it really does, he'll think you're close by. And he'll know without opening his eyes that you're there for him. That you'll always be there for him. That no matter what he does, he'll know you're with him, that you love him. Unconditionally.

I think, in the end, that's the best thing we as parents can offer our children.

I know you thought it was ridiculous how I handled that whole mess with Rory last year. I think I hoped she would understand that even if I wasn't with her, I still loved her. That no matter what she did: steal a boat, marry Logan, pull a bank job and run off with the loot, hiding away in the forest for 20 years, she still had my support. Not that I agreed with what she did. Of course I didn't. But I never stopped loving her. I could, never stop loving her.

It's funny because last time I wrote you I talked about that episode of ER. I know I've made you watch quite a few television shows with me so I hope that when I reference back to them you get my drift of what I'm saying. You've never said that you don't, so either you're skipping over these parts of my letters, you're reading them but not asking, or you do actually know what I'm saying. But you've never gotten it before… wait, are you looking it up? Oh now I'm picturing it. You write down what you need to know and ask that little genius of yours. Smart Luke, very smart.

So here's a new reference for you. There's a line that Aaron Sorkin used in both of his now departed televisions shows (and so you don't have to ask April, the shows are Sports Night and The West Wing). That man is a genius when it comes to writing, but he does like to use the same phrases over and over. Did you know that the finale of the first season of both of those shows was titled What Kind Of Day Has It Been? Very cool stuff. Are you watching his new show? Are you at least taping it for me, knowing that I'm dying to see it? They don't show it here and I'm going crazy! I swear, one small dose of Sorkin's intellectual, fast-paced, quick-witted humor out of the mouth of the likes of Matthew Perry or Bradley Whitford and I swear I've drunk from the fountain of youth.

You're waiting for me to get to the point, right? Hee. If we were face to face, you'd be rolling your eyes and saying my name in that way that sounds like you're completely annoyed with me. There's this West Wing episode about the president's middle daughter, Ellie. She feels like he loves the other two girls more than her, like she's not her father's favorite and neither really knows how to express that they really do love each other. At the end of the episode there's this sweet little scene where he turns to Ellie and says, "the only thing you ever had to do to make me happy was to come home at the end of the day." It always made me cry. I mean each time I watch that episode I know that line is coming but it's so perfect, so true. And on Sports Night, Casey McCall said the same line to his son. And really, I think it's something that every parent should say to their child, whenever that child is feeling unloved, whenever that child questions if he or she isn't loved by their parents, whenever the child worries that she's doing the wrong thing.

Luke, it's the whole truth. Despite everything, our stupid fight, the crazy choices we made, all Rory ever had to do to make me love her was come home, just stop by. Something so small can mean so much. I think I knew as long as I had faith in that idea, as long as I believed she got that I would love her no matter what, then everything would be okay in the end. Sure, it hurt in the middle, but I never lost faith, I never stopped loving her.

It's something I gave her that I never had, that unconditional love. I never had it. At least, until you. I had no reference to go from when Rory was born, but I figured it out.

So I guess this leads me to the real reason why I missed writing you last week. Guess who decided to visit? Yes, that's right, the people I like to call Mr. and Mrs. Schnicklefritz. They just showed up out of the blue. Personally I believe Dear Abby would have backed me up if I threw them back out on their asses for their intrusion, but she's dead and I was dead tired as I entered my eighth month. Yes, eighth month. Wow, it seems so short but November 26th seems so very far away. By the way, did you book your flight yet? The prices are skyrocketing from what I hear and you won't let me ask Mike to pay. He said he would, so just let me know if I should wink and bat my eyes and tell him I've changed my mind. That doesn't just work for you, you know. Course with you, sometimes all I need is a hair flip. I'm flipping my hair now Luke! And if I could fit in that black dress you love, I would! So buy that damn ticket and get over here because I miss you and your son misses you and I don't want you to miss his entrance into this world. Can you imagine what it would be like for him if I was the entire welcoming committee? It's a wonder Rory didn't try to crawl back in after realizing that this crazy woman, high on Demerol was her mother.

I was telling you about my parents being here, wasn't I? It was actually kind of nice having them around. I mean, yes, apparently I have no idea how to raise a child according to my mother and I must be kidding myself to allow you to stay away so long according to my father, but at time it was kind of all right. Nothing like that scene in Father of the Bride when Kimberly Williams tells Steve Martin she's getting married, which should be a relief, I guess, because you don't want my dad falling in your pool. Not that you have one, but I do like the looks of you in swim trunks. Yes, my fine sexy man in swim trunks, a nice picture in my mind.

My mom and dad were on their biannual fall tour of Europe. Did I ever tell you that it's an absolutely insane idea to my parents that they change their habits one bit? I once suggested that they go in the summer and they scoffed at me, I was informed that they go to Europe in the fall, that's what they've always done. Now I know change is a scary concept, but this isn't like an "I'm becoming a man" kind of change, it's like a new hair cut kind of change. I love hair cuts, though I know you like my hair long. But sometimes it's nice to have someone massage your scalp and make you look gorgeous in a matter of a hour. You feel kind of renewed, well I do. Although I know you do like a scalp massages as well, hell you like any kind of massage and I don't know why but your muscles used to intrigue me so much that I could have just spent hours massaging your muscles. I did one night, remember?

So my parents did the same thing everyone does on a trip to Paris, they took me to the Louvre. How imaginative was that? Surely, Anne Shirley would have been disappointed in them. She always said that never grown-ups shouldn't lack for an imagination and I truly believe in that as well. And we saw the Mona Lisa and all those regular ones that every visitor sees. But I was struck once again by the painting entitled _Et in Aracdia ego_. Basically, in case you never get the chance to see the painting, it's of four shepherds, at least that's what my dad claimed they were, all standing around a tomb. The title of the work means something like 'I am also in Arcadia'. I'll bet if you ask April, she'll tell you that Arcadia was a region of Ancient Greece, a land of natural beauty unspoiled by human civilization, a land free of suffering that only offered pleasures both spiritual and physical. It's like a utopia. Anyways, apparently the title is supposed to be spoken by a personified version of death, meaning that even in the most wonderful, perfect places, death and sadness still remains. But still, it is a utopia.

You know, I wasn't sure what I'd find when I left my parents' place 21 years ago. I think, though I tried to hide it, I was scared. I was afraid. I worried that my that torture chamber I had lived in might be the best place I would ever live, that I might miss that place and want to go back, although I never would, no matter if I ended up working for the devil that is Bill Gates, I would never have gone back. I found Stars Hollow. I found Mia. I found the Independence. It was all wonderful, it was all better than I could have imagined, but it wasn't perfect, I still felt like I was searching for something.

And then I found you. And I found my utopia.

My perfect, idyllic place isn't your apartment. It's not the Crap Shack and not the Dragonfly. It's you. Everything I have, everything I need, it's in you. You are my home in that whole Chantal Kreviazuk way. And no matter where you are or where I am, you'll always be what keeps me safe, where I can go to be free from pain of everything that tears me apart inside. You offer me everything. And yet, as the painting says, it's never perfect. There's a shadow deep within that contains the memories of your parents and everything that you ever lost, a fear of never keeping hold of those whole you love. But, Luke, I want to be the one to shine a light inside and erase that shadow, I need to you to trust me, I need you to believe that together, you and I can create a utopia, a home for us and our son. And though it might be eight months away, somehow I know it's right. Somehow, staring at that painting, I'm glad I left my parents' house, I'm glad I somehow found Stars Hollow, I'm glad I found you. You are more than I could have ever hoped for. Wherever you are is where I belong.

All my life is yours,

_Lorelai_


	17. September 30, 2006

_September 30th, 2006_

My main man,

You know you can really stop worrying. I'm fine. The doctor said I'm fine. I said I'm fine. But you call me everyday and try to stress me out to the point that I worry I'm not going to be okay. Do you call because you're worried? I mean you never called that much before. Did I say something that made you fear something?

You call me and after saying my name you're always quiet for a moment. In that time I just sit there, the phone pressed to my hear, listening to you breathe. And then you say the two words 'you okay?' as if I'm the one who called. You crazy crazy man. Just admit it, you're making excuses to call. You miss me. It's okay.

It's hard because all I can say in response is 'yes, Luke, I'm okay'. It's not the truth. It's not really the truth at all.

I go to work day after day, doing the same thing I've one for months now. And it's just… I do love this inn. Mike did a great job of finding me the best place to work, a place similar to the Dragonfly that just needed some effective management for a year. And the people who work there are so wonderful. I've told you about Graciela. Did I tell you we hired a new event planner? We had to. Since we finally got our adverstising campaign together and Mike got us into the American travel guides, we've been getting more and more calls for weddings. You wouldn't believe the number of people that want to have a destination wedding in Paris. As much as I love Paris, I never considered the idea of having a wedding here. I mean, yes, it is the city of love or so I'm told. It doesn't seem that way to me.

Maybe that's because my love is an entire ocean and half-day long plane ride away.

So our new event planner, Phillipe, (yes I swear that's his name and no, he's not gay) used to work at one of Mike's smaller inns on the other side of Paris. He's got all these ideas about how weddings are supposed to go and how the planning is supposed to go. He swears it takes almost a year to plan a wedding, which makes me wonder if that's where I went wrong. I planned ours in a day, remember? Well, less than that, like 8 hours or something. And I tried to explain that to him, that not everyone feels the need to spend all that time. Sure, it's supposed to be the biggest day in a woman's life, I guess…

I'll admit the biggest day in my life so far was the day that Rory was born. Talk about life changing. Something on the level of a sex change operation or something. You think? I mean I went from being some sixteen year old girl with a fat stomach and thick ankles to the mother of this little person. My little angel.

She asked about you the other day when she called. Is she not visiting you when she goes to Stars Hollow? Or is she lying to me about visiting Stars Hollow? She better be visiting you. I don't want Paul Anka to completely forget what it's like to live with a female. Can you try talking in a high voice around him? Or wearing high heels so he doesn't get scared of them again?

Anyways, I was talking about wedding planning. But I swear I wasn't the only one who planned a wedding that quickly. Lane did. It was like, one week we found out she was engaged and the next week she was getting married. Well that's not quite true, you knew she was getting married long before I did. Traitor. You were my fiancé, you weren't supposed to hide the gossip from me.

Hmm… that joke didn't turn out like I thought it would. I hope you get what I mean. I've forgiven you. You know that. I mean you wrote me that whole beautiful letter a few months ago. The one that it felt like a cardinal sin to read because you apologized so many freaking times. Who are you to be apologizing? Wait, let me remind you what you wrote, it was just after one of my early letters when I begged you to tell me what you were thinking

_I'm looking at your last letter and I can't stop looking at that last line. You know me so well, better than I know myself I think. Remember when you found out about November 30th and I told you what it meant to me? I meant it when I said I'd never really told anyone about it before. No one. Liz knew, but she's Liz. That should be enough explanation. But I told you. You are the only person I could have ever thought to tell. You are the only one that could ever understand me, why I am the way I am, why I do the things I do. And you want that to stay the same. You want me to tell you everything. And I just… I haven't been have I? I haven't been telling you anything, since long before that night you walked away from me in the street. Since the moment I found out about April._

_Lorelai, I'm sorry. I'm just unbelievably sorry. I've been the biggest jerk in the world. Dope is probably the word you'd use. You were the only one I would open up to and I cut you off, I cut myself off. And that was wrong of me. I know that. I just hate that it took you walking away from me and going to him to make me realize that. Can you ever forgive me?_

And you never had to ask for forgiveness. I forgave you the moment that I woke up that morning in his bed, feeling desolate and shameful. I looked back for a second just to see what I was leaving behind and I became my own pillar of salt.

It reminds me of this one summer when Rory was little, about two I think, Mia decided she and I both needed to get away for a bit so she took us to the beach with her. It was like finding out once again what it was to breathe air in the outside world. Part of me was freaked, like what if leaving the protective cover of Star Hollow caused everything to go to pieces? What if Mia saw the real selfish me? The real Lorelai Gilmore. What if Rory saw the real me? What if we saw my parents or I lost Rory or…? There were just so many things I was scared of.

Not to mention that it would be the first time I went out in public in a bikini since Rory was born. You're lucky we didn't get together right away. Oy with the stretch marks.

Anyways, I was talking about that day at the beach. I decided to show Rory how to make a sand castle. It was odd because the sand was so soft, it didn't feel like normal sand. And I don't know why, but it made it hard to pack together, it kept falling apart. It didn't matter how much water we added, it just wouldn't stay together. Rory kept crying because I had promised her we'd build one. Oh how it hurt to let that poor child down. She asked for so little from me: food, a sand castle, a hug, the breath of life. The sand was so beautiful and lovely seemingly perfect, but it had a flaw, it wouldn't stay together.

Why am I telling you this story, you're asking and I know you are, because I know you, as you have said yourself. Because sand is like salt, they have the same texture, both just pieces of a larger rock in little bitty pieces. However, as perfect as I seem sometimes, you know I have lots of flaws, but only one thing could ever make me fall apart like that. Losing you.

Somehow I deviated from what I was talking about. That never happens, does it? I was talking about Lane's wedding. I was talking about you hiding stuff from me. So I guess I should admit something to you and thankfully I'm not there to take the heat from this. Before I tell you, I'm blaming Patty entirely. Okay okay, I can't blame her entirely. I didn't have to go along with it. I shouldn't have. Maybe things would have come to a head more quickly if I had just told you. Then again, maybe we would have broken up sooner too. What do you think?

And again I realized you have no idea what I'm talking about. Seriously, Luke, how did you ever put up with me? Luke, you know that I saw that picture of Rory and April. She told me she told you. I think she was scared that I was going to be mad at her, but really have I ever actually been mad at her? Usually anytime she did something I didn't like, I was more upset with myself at not liking what she did or being a bad mother, than I was with her. I mean, you know that, after finding the crazy insane lady in her daughter's bedroom crying over her sick dog.

Anyways, after I saw that picture of Rory and April, I got kinda… I don't know exactly the words to describe it. You had introduced my daughter to yours before introducing me to her. Me. Your fiancée. The woman who was going to be that little girl's step-mother. And it was days later. We had talked everyday, every night, sometimes more than that, and you never mentioned it. You never said you saw Rory. I didn't need her to tell me, I needed you to. I needed you to open up to me. I needed you to let me in as you once had done without me even asking. And it hurt Luke, it really hurt. I know I've said I've forgiven you and I have, I just need to tell you what exactly I was feeling before I tell you what I did next, because otherwise you'll think I was acting out Girl, Interrupted.

That night I decided to take out all my anger and frustration on my liver. I did somewhere around eight shots of tequila in about ten minutes. Hey, I never had a 21st birthday like I should have had so I decided that was my night. But, as you know, sometimes I can get a little crazy when I'm drunk. And I'm not talking about that story that Patty fed you about singing Endless Love. (Awesome song, but I am not that good of a singer.) Actually, when I took the mike I gave a speech to Lane and Zach. But it wasn't about them. I don't remember exactly what I said, I'm a little foggy on the details, but the little thing called jealous reared its ugly head. I went on and on about how easy it was for them to get married, which was amazing, cause it was something I couldn't do. I said that marriage wasn't for me. That it was never going to happen. Especially on June 3rd. And I was right, wasn't I?

It was never going to happen. Never on June 3rd. Maybe never at all.

There's this saying I always remember. Don't tempt the fates. I don't know where it comes from but it's always in the back of my mind. Maybe by proposing, I did that. Maybe by putting off the wedding and then allowing you to do that same, we did that. It was like we were telling fate we didn't want to get married so the fates just went along with us. But I did want to get married. I still do. I mean think about it, we're having a baby. And it's not the same as when I was pregnant with Rory because getting married then would have been wrong, more than because we were still children. I didn't love him. I never would have. I never did. But I do love you. And that will never change.

I'm not proposing to you, that's not what I'm trying to say. Really, sometimes I don't even deserve you. You've got a heart of gold, Luke. I mean you've got to. To be able to forgive me. To be able to understand that I was totally messed up but it didn't mean anything. To get that no matter what I'll never stop loving you. I'd do anything to marry you though. To know that we would be together forever. Maybe my heart would stop quaking each time I open your letter, thinking God knows what, that you'd realize you're too good for me or something like that.

And on that note, it's three in the afternoon and I'm exhausted, so I'm going to go take a rest. Hopefully your son will do the same.

With endless love,

_Lorelai_


	18. October 7th, 2006

_October 7th, 2006_

To the most important man in my daughter's life,

Yes, I mean you, Luke. Tomorrow's her birthday and I've already gone out and bought her a pile of gifts and wished a million times that I wasn't so damn pregnant that I couldn't spend her birthday with her. Two years in a row. She's turning 22 and I can't celebrate. I can't wake her up at four o'clock in the morning and tell her the story of her birth. No, I'm not a sadist, it was a tradition. Tevye would appreciate that.

Did I ever tell you the story of Rory's birth? What am I hearing? You don't care. Oh Luke, you're hilarious. I'm sure you don't care.

I was just thinking about that night, the night after Rory came back to me, to us, to Stars Hollow. I was laying here with my hand over your son's heart just feeling it pulse beneath my fingers. And I felt just so... something… There has to be a word better than happy. I mean I'm not Roget, but I can come up with something better than that. Yes, I miss you. Yes, I wish you were here or I was there, but I can still be happy, at least for the most part. And you are here, in some way. If I keep going along these lines I'm going to up the corn factor to the where you're gagging so hard that you don't want to read the rest of this letter.

Anyways, I was just laying there trying to think of the last time I was happy, I mean truly happy. And I just… it was hard, you know? You know, every moment with you was wonderful. Even the sad ones. Every time I woke up with you in the morning, even when we hadn't made love the night before, even when we had argued the night before, even when I was worried that our relationship had become nothing more than living from one sexual experience to the next, living side by side in our little town, it was all better than I could have imagined. Can you think of it, the last time I was truly happy?

I wish I could say it was the night of April's birthday party but I don't think it really was. It was that night that Rory came back. My heart was finally full again with my daughter back in my life. Not that you weren't enough for me because, Luke, my life was never whole before you. But Rory… she is my life.

One night while she was staying with my parents and you were passed out cold next to me, I tried to imagine what my life would have been without her. Would I have stayed in Hartford? Would I have married Christopher? Would I have gone to college? Would I have moved to Stars Hollow? Would we have ever met? Though I hope we would have met, I just couldn't really see it. I couldn't see my life without her. Because she is a part of me, she is me, she's everything I never got to be and she has everything I never got to have. I think I wondered if she never came back, would we ever be able to move on. Would I ever be able to move on? A part of me feared that I wouldn't be able to.

There was this girl I went to high school with, Julia Delpree, I heard about her a few years ago. She married just a few years out of college and she and her husband had a little boy and a little girl. In the summer, while her husband was a work, Julia would open the doors in the house to let to the breeze in and go about her day. During the afternoon at about the same time each day, she'd put her daughter in the playpen in her bedroom and take a nap. Apparently someone was onto her schedule because one day while she was sleeping (and she slept like a log because she was up all night with her colicky baby) someone walked in the backdoor and kidnapped her three year old son. It was the biggest news in Hartford for a year, but then other things happened, wars and such, and Julia Delpree and her family were forgotten.

But she never forgot. She never moved on.

The whole thing put such a strain on her marriage that her husband ended up leaving her, moving to the city with their daughter. But Julia never moved. She never left that giant home in Hartford. I heard tell that she insisted that one day her son would remember where he used to live until the age of three and would just come back to her. I'd say she was crazy, but really, I can't say I'd have done differently. I literally refused to go on with my life once I lost Rory. Despite what we could have been, I'm not sure I could have ever put my life together if she hadn't come back, because she was my life and how do you go on when a piece of you is missing?

I remember on the five year anniversary of her son's disappearance Julia went on television. She pleaded for news about her son. She pleaded for someone to bring her son back. I remember realizing that she was wearing almost exactly the same outfit as she had worn on TV just five years before. Her hair was cut to exactly the same length. She sat in exactly the same position. She had lost her daughter, her husband, most of her friends and family and all that mattered was that her son, a piece of her heart was gone, probably never to return again.

Would I have given it all up for Rory? If she had never come back. Would I have given up even you?

Then again, would she have let me?

Would you have let me?

I think this brings me back to my original thought: the night after she came back. Remember, the night she came back I burst into the diner, telling you she was back, reminding you that now we could get married, telling you to bring all the junk food you could find over to our house because it was time to party! And you did. You showed up not long into our first movie of the night with bags of burgers and fries and donuts and, yes, I did see that orange at the bottom and, no, I did not eat it. You showed up and you brought food and then you turned around and left, not even stepping in the doorway because you claimed you'd be too tempted to stay and you knew I'd let you and it wasn't right. Rory and I needed just this one night for just us.

And, as usual, you were right.

But the next night, you came over early. You made dinner for me and for Rory and we sat together and ate and chatted and talk and it felt like what family was supposed to be like. You know, I have a pretty distorted idea of what family is supposed to be having walked out on mine at the age of seventeen and created my own miniature sized one a year before. But I get the gist of it. Maybe I learned it from you, from all those years you went on about your dad but really wanted to talk about your mom and all those times you bitched about your sister when really all you wanted was the best for her. And maybe I realized from you that the miniature family of me and Rory wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for me or for her. And then you came along and put that ring on my finger and I sat there that night with you and Rory with that ring glittering on my hand it was all clear to me.

And, yes, I was happy.

We can still have that Luke. Maybe not with Rory, because at 22 she's probably too old to live at home anymore. Maybe not with April, whose mother will probably never let me with in 500 feet of her for the rest of my life. But you and me and our son. That's family. Right? I mean, I'm not so crazy that I don't recognize it when I see it. That's what we're creating. When I come home to you with our son in my arms, we'll have it. A family. Something you had once and now lives on in your memories and something I've been searching for my whole life. And yes, April and Rory will be a part of it, because we will each be gaining a daughter in a way, not that you haven't always been that important in her life.

That's also a hint there, my dear, wish Rory a happy birthday tomorrow. But I'm sure you would without me having to remind you. Because you were the one who never forgot and I love you for that.

With the greatest admiration,

_Lorelai_

P.S. I knew about the coffee cakes.


	19. October 14th, 2006

_October 14th, 2006_

Hun,

I'm so sorry I haven't returned your call from the other day. Things have been really crazy here. I know. I know. I use that excuse every time that I forget, but this time I didn't, I just didn't have time. Let me explain and maybe, just maybe, you'll forgive this little slip…

You see, Graciela's grandfather is in the hospital. He's more than just in the hospital, he's dying. In fact, by the time you get this letter, he'll probably be gone. It doesn't look good. But here's the thing, her grandmother is in England visiting her cousins and I hear she's having trouble getting a flight back, what with the terrorists and everything. I'm sure you know all about the terrorists, it's the only news they show in the US anymore. I'd make a lot more comments, but I might be tried for treason when I try to get back to the US.

Anyways, with Graciela at the hospital all the time, I've been working more. It's been hard getting temporary replacements when we're still trying to get permanent replacements around here. So I've been taking time at the receptionist desk on my days and nights off. Thankfully I get to sit down more than Graciela does due to the extra weight I'm carrying around. I swear I'm considering getting a giant saw and cutting my legs off around my calves. My ankles are like dead weights. You know those metal balls that prisoners have to slug around attached to their ankles in old movies? I know exactly what they're going through.

You laugh and you're having the next one. Trust me on that.

Yesterday I had to take off of work and drive Graciela to the hospital since her husband was shuttling their kid around in the car. She dragged me up to the hospital room to meet her family and the minute I got in the room my eyes, like any person who walks into a hospital room, were reverted to the patient in the bed. As I glanced around at all the people that were standing around the bed, hoping for a good recovery, I realized that her grandmother still wasn't there. Graciela said her grandmother hadn't managed a flight but hoped to today so she could say goodbye to her husband of half a century.

Can you believe it? They were married half a century. Craziness. I can't even fathom that.

So I'm in there and I'm looking at this older man in a hospital bed and it hit me that this woman might never get to see her husband like this. That the last time she would see him was at the airport before she got on the plane to London. She wouldn't be able to tell him goodbye or whisper how she loves him or tell him all the wonderful things he's done for her. And I just couldn't stop thinking…

What if it was you, Luke?

What if something happened to you back at home and I couldn't get there because I was pregnant or I couldn't get a flight or I had made fun of Bush too many damn times so they wouldn't let me back? What if you were lying in a hospital bed, your last moments on earth, and I couldn't be there? I couldn't tell you I loved you. I couldn't tell you I wish things had never turned out like this. I couldn't tell you how I dream of the day when we're finally together and everything is more perfect than we could have imagined. I couldn't tell you I'm sorry.

Luke, I… no, I love you. That's all.

I was thinking about the first time I saw your face. I'll bet you think it was at the diner that day when Rory was in there. The day before we met. That wasn't it. I remember it was at one of those Firelight Festivals, I think I always seem to associate them with you and now I remember why. I decided to take Rory because Patty felt we weren't getting out that much and we should definitely take part in town functions. What did I know? My kid was 3. I was 20. And all I knew was that I was 30 wonderful, amazing minutes from my parents' house, maybe even 40 if I drove at half speed.

So I was standing to the side, holding tightly to Rory's hand. Yes, even at that age I understood that it's not a good thing to be known as the mother who lets her kid run into the fire. And she might have, Rory loved bright glowing things like candles and flashlights and Light Bright. Oh she loved Light Bright. We were also standing a distance from the punch bowl because I wasn't even old enough to have at that (not that my age would have stopped me). But it's also best not to be known as the mother who lets her 3 year old get drunk at a town function. Patty might have enjoyed that and Rory would never have stopped hearing about the first time she puked after getting drunk.

Over by the fire I noticed this older man, who must have been your father, helping get the fire started. Old Mayor Bingsley was yelling at Taylor about the matches but your father just ignored them, just kept piling wood on top. Every once in awhile I'd see this younger guy walk over to your father and try to pull him away, trying to keep him from ending up in the fire with his wood. This guy was protecting your father almost like I was protecting Rory. Just wanting to keep those he loved safe.

I'm sure you've figured out by now that the guy was you. And it wasn't until years later that I realized it. Even after I met you and you became my coffee provider, I still never realized it until we attended out first Firelight Festival together. I remember because we were walking up to the gathering with Rory and Lane, who were chattering away like all other 12 year olds in the world, and I just froze. And you looked at me like I was crazy but I couldn't tell you why. I couldn't tell you that years before I had seen this wonderful guy being good to his father, this amazing guy who cared for the ones he loved, this guy that I really never stopped thinking about because it seemed to me that he was the perfect man: protective, loving, handsome all wrapped up in a nice Luke package. (Hehe, Luke package…) I couldn't tell you that somehow my eyes had been drawn to that man, that when I was lonely and Rory was over at Lane's long before I met you, I would think about him, I would imagine that he had seen me and fallen in love with me.

You ever see Pocahontas? I mean the Disney version. What am I thinking? Of course you haven't. Man, I so can't wait until I bring our son home and make you watch Pinocchio or something with him for the first time. Making you nauseous yet?

I remember when Pocahontas first came out and I bought it. Rory and I watched it all the time, I swear it's my favorite of the Disney movies. Gotta know what's around the riverbend, right? Just agree, okay? Anyways, Rory and I would watch it and sing all the songs. _Colors of the Wind. Mine, Mine, Mine. The Virginia Company._ And then after it was over, Rory would get into her PJs because she was only 11 and go to bed. But I'd stay up and listen to the song that ran through the lyrics.

And you're wondering why I bring this up now, but it was that song at the end that's been in my head since I left the hospital. It's called _If I Never Knew You _and it's all about how John Smith might be going home, he might be leaving Pocahontas, they might be apart in the end, but it wasn't wrong to be together in the beginning. Their love was right.

If you never forgave me, if you never opened up a single one of these letters, if we never saw each other again, I wouldn't want to forget what we had. It wasn't wrong. Just because we managed to screw up this fabulously wonderful thing, doesn't make it wrong. It doesn't mean we shouldn't have ever tried.

Oh Luke, if I had never met you, I'd be lost. I'd be…oh what did they say… safe but half as real.

It's true. Oh Luke, it's so true. Without you, I might never have hurt this much, because people can't really hurt me, no one can really hurt me unless I really care. My parents can hurt me because all I've ever wanted was their love. Rory can hurt me because I love her. And you, my darling, you, my only love, you can hurt me. You shouldn't feel ashamed about that fact, it's a good thing. You're the only one I've loved. You're the only man who could ever really hurt me.

But even if I couldn't get hurt because I had never met you, it wouldn't be right, I wouldn't be me. You are my other half, my better half. You make me whole.

Luke. I need you. Please. Please come. Come soon. I just… I miss you and I have this fear sitting on my stomach. No, it's not your son, it's something worse. Besides, he's actually sitting on my bladder, not my stomach, he could only sit on my stomach if I stood on my head. I'm getting off topic here...

I was standing there in the hospital room with Graciela and, the horrible person that I am, I could only think of you. How awful it would be if you were in the hospital and I couldn't get to you. How it would be if I was the hospital bed and you couldn't get to me. And it just made me think about life, how short it is, how stupid it is for us to let all this nastiness tear us apart and keep us far away from each other.

We should have had more time. We should have had so much more. And the more we're apart, the less time we have. Don't you see that?

Last night I had this nightmare that you were lying on the hospital bed, that I was late getting there, that you were lying on this white sheet and just not… alive… I was standing there holding our son and it was awful. I can't do it without you. I mean now, I mean when he's born. I just… I miss you.

Safe but half as real,

_Lorelai_


	20. October 21st, 2006

_October 21st, 2006_

My love,

You have no idea what it feels like, what goes on inside me, what went on inside me, the moment I walked through the door on Wednesday. You know, it was like a ritual I developed. I write you a letter on Saturday. On Tuesday I imagine you reading it and responding so that Friday I can go to my mail box and expect to find your response. As usual on Tuesday I had imagined you reading my last letter and I could only imagine what went on in your mind as you read my overdramatic ravings. Maybe you would have rolled your eyes and thought 'a tad over the top there Lorelai'. So by Wednesday I was already worried about the letter I'd receive from you on Friday.

I guess that was a little unnecessary when I opened the door that afternoon to find you on the small couch opposite the door (which by the way is just decorative, not to actually be used for sitting). You were just sitting there, your elbows on your knees, your hands folded in front of your mouth, staring at the door. Waiting for me I suppose.

You're probably surprised that I can remember every detail of how you were seated in that moment but I can. It's a clear picture in my mind. The most beautiful image I've ever held before my eyes. I think in that short moment, I just stood there, the door open to the world, my hands dropping open because my brain could barely concentrate on holding my bags while I was staring at you. I'm not sure I was even breathing.

I just stared at you, trailing my eyes over your position, your clothes, your mussed hair. And I got caught in your eyes. So familiar and safe and comforting.

A million miles away from my town and my family and my house, I was at home.

I have no idea when I started trembling, but I remember realizing, as I slowly drew in a large breath, that my hands were shaking, that even my breath was shaky. My whole focus was so much on you in that moment that I was frozen in place, an involuntary tear drifted down my cheek, but the bags stayed on the ground where they had fallen, the door stayed open where I had left it and I couldn't move. So you did.

You stood and walked towards me and I felt your hands on my hips and gliding around to my lower back. I felt your one hand drift up my back to cup the back of my head. And you were so close. I could even smell you, the aroma that was so familiar I wondered if it was a perfume I used to wear. Maybe it was. I used to wear your smell as a part of me.

Without thinking, I just ran my hands up your arms until they wrapped around your neck and buried my face in your shoulder. I think I wanted to really smell you, really know that you were there, in my apartment that had seemed so lonely for so long. Next thing I knew I was crying. I don't even know why I was crying. There was no reason to be sad, not at all. You were there. You were holding me so close, so tight, that I was just wrapped in you. I almost forgot what it felt like.

Your hugs are so real, so warm and tender and loving and just nothing that I think might have been expected in my original perception of you. But you proved me wrong and I'm so glad. I never really felt alive until you hugged me and I knew you were my support, until you pulled me against you and I could feel your heart beat through your chest as mine matched yours as you became the pulse of my life.

And then you whispered in my ear the three sweetest words I've ever heard. "Are you okay?" God Luke. Am I okay? Well no, I'm a wreck, I mean I was but with you, you were there, you were holding me and… nothing else mattered. All I could do was bury my face in your neck and hold you tighter because that made everything okay.

You felt so wonderful. Strong. Supportive. Real. You were there.

And then as I leaned back and looked into your eyes, I saw again what had always been there, I think I had lost it for time, that my fear of losing you and my shattered trust in you clouded my ability to see deep within your eyes. They kept me steady when I fell apart. I remember when I was crying in Rory's room over Paul Anka and you came in and told me everything was going to be okay, there was only one moment when I looked at you, really looked into your eyes, and that's when I really believed it, believed what you were saying, that everything was going to be okay.

And I have no idea what made me say what I said next, maybe I felt you needed to hear ir, you needed to know how much I appreciated you showing up, you coming because I basically begged you to come. "I just… I love you so much." That's what I said? I mean, my mind wasn't exactly clear but I thought that's what I remembered. And I do, and I've written that before, but I needed to tell you.

But you… you just cupped my face in your hands and looked at me with this gaze that only revealed adoration and you told me you loved me too. God Luke, that's all you ever had to say. I'm a sucker for your eyes and your gaze but most of all, for those three little words coming out of your mouth. I swear, you could get away with toilet papering my house by just saying that. Although I'm not exactly sure why you would toilet paper my house and then say you loved me.

And then you kissed me, and it was like a memory I thought would never come again.

You know of all the crazy things you've ever done, I think falling in love with me is the craziest.

It was a great couple of days, wasn't it? I mean after kissing for a bit, you took my hand and lead me over to the couch and just let me rest against you, your arms around me, at least to some extent. Actually your hand was covering my belly. That makes me smile, Luke. You're going to be such a great father.

I don't know how we got here. I don't know how we got this far. I don't know if it was just the distance and we really missed each other. I mean we've spent time apart before. Not that much since we started dating, but we spent the whole summer apart after Rory's graduation. We went to Europe and you went on that trip, you got married. You got married Luke. Sometimes it saddens me that you barely liked Nicole, at least it seemed that way sometimes, she annoyed you, but you married her. But with me… it didn't work out.

It wasn't like I didn't think of you that summer. I'd drink coffee in a café and I'd wish it was yours. We'd look for gifts for everyone but nothing seemed to scream your name. I'd pick up the phone late at night wanting to call someone, but Sookie was pregnant and needed her sleep and you were gone and I'd put the phone back down, knowing that even if you were home, it would have been weird if I had called anyways. And then we'd look at Sookie's pictures from Rory's graduation and I'd pause at the one of you and me and Rory, with your arm around me. You with your blue eyes and dark hair and pointed nose, the three of us standing together, we looked like a family.

I could have had that. Christopher asked me to marry him, more than once. I could have had that 'whole package' family kinda thing. But looking at pictures of it wouldn't have warmed my heart like that picture of us at Rory's graduation. You came to the graduation, even when I said you didn't need to you came, and he didn't. Some stupid business meeting came before his daughter but your entire business didn't come before my daughter.

You've been amazing these past three days too. We'd go walking around Paris, I took you to the park, and we'd just walk and talk and sometimes sit because, seriously, with one month go to, I get tired easily. And of course I did more of talking but would you have expected any different? But things were different, you held my hand the whole time, when you looked over at me your eyes settled for a bit longer, ran your fingers over my cheek or brushed against my arm it was like you stayed close for fear of losing me.

You'll never lose me. Never again.

I know what it's like to go months and months without your touch, your hands, your lips, your hugs and kisses, and I'd give up coffee before doing that again. (That has to mean something!)

This cradle, this beautiful cradle. Oh, did I say that I'm sitting in our son's room? I'm just staring at this lovely cradle you made for him, in just three days time. Thursday you bought the wood. Friday you put it together. This morning you etched designs in it and painted it before you left. Isn't it funny how this new cradle makes me even more excited for our son to be born?

I can't wait to meet him. I can't wait to see him. See if he looks just like you. I can't wait to learn his personality, what makes him laugh and smile, what makes him cry and reach for his daddy. I want to know what his favorite foods will be and if he'd rather watch TV than exercise. I've imagined it all in so many different ways but now it's one month away and I just want to know which is the real way, what is he really like.

Speaking of our son, we still need a name, don't we? How about Hercule? Like from Agatha Christie?

What did Liz name hers? Was he beautiful? Was she in a lot of pain? They gave me a lot of drugs when Rory was born but Liz said she wanted to go natural with this one. Does he look like TJ? I'm not sure if I can say congratulations if you say yes to that one. I'm sure I'm not going to wait for you to write me a letter for those answers, I'll bet you call tonight. I'll bet you call soon.

Just like I knew the moment that you got the call from TJ that you'd leave. You said you didn't want to. You said you didn't have to. But then you wouldn't be you. You're dependable, one of the things I love the most about you. Though you grumped the entire time you packed, not everything you brought because you insisted you were coming back soon, I knew that you'd be more upset if TJ hadn't called to tell you that Liz was in labor.

By the way, I picked up that book April gave you off your nightstand. Aw, your nightstand. You have a nightstand. I know you know that but still, it's nice to write. Just think, last night and the night before that and the night before that, you didn't sleep on the couch, you stayed in my bed with me, your arms around me, my arms around you.

I could have stayed like that forever.

Anyways, the book is quite good. Did you read it yet? Because I don't want to spoil it for you like when I got you to read one of my favorite books, To Kill A Mockingbird, and I told you what happened to Tom Robinson when you had just gotten to the part about Scout, Dill and Jem sneaking away to his trial.

I'll never forget that night. You grabbed my hand, dragged me down to the diner, put a pie in front of me and walked upstairs, locking the door until you were done at 5 in the morning. I remember hearing you come downstairs, as I had fallen asleep at the table, an empty pie plate in front of me. You hit me gently over the head with the book and asked why I was still there and I told you that I knew you wouldn't go to bed before you knew what happened and I wanted to know what you thought the minute you finished. That was true, but not the real truth. The truth is that I just couldn't see myself walking away to sleep in my bed alone when you were right upstairs and if I complained that you had locked me out all night, you'd let Caesar open so you could stay in bed with me all morning.

Luke, I don't want to go into my bedroom. It's our bedroom now. And I just can't sleep there without you anymore. But I have to, I'll have to for the next seven months. I guess I'll wait until you call so I can crawl into bed and just talk to you until it's almost like you're there next to me. It won't be enough, but it will have to do.

Hey you know what Harper Lee said in that book? She said "courage is when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do." I had the courage to leave, to come here, to attempt to live without you for 12 months, and I was basically fighting a losing battle against myself before I started. But I'm seeing it through and I think I'm going to win. I'm going to win you and your love and our life together. That's the endgame in all this mess.

Fighting through,

_Lorelai_


	21. October 28th, 2006

_October 28th, 2006_

Luke,

I don't know about this. A part of me wishes you had never come, then I wouldn't know what it was like to have you here. To remember what it was like to wake up with you by my side, your hand on my belly, your lips on my cheek. To remember what it was like to wake up a second time and find a steaming cup of coffee (unfortunately decaf, and yes the nose told me) on my nightstand and to carry it into my son's nursery to find you on the floor working on his cradle. To hear your voice in my ears and feel your hands on my skin at almost constant moments throughout the day. Now I feel like I'm moving through a fog.

It makes me wonder about Molly in that movie Ghost. Was it better for her to share that one last kiss with Sam? To remember their dance to Unchained Melody and hear him sing it through Whoopi?

You sounded so excited on the phone. An instant proud uncle of one bouncing baby boy of 7 lbs and 3 ounces. I think it's sweet that Liz named him Lucas by the way, although I almost feel like I need to start calling her Bobbie. Sorry, Luke, I love you but we're not naming our kid Lucas too, only to call him Lucky. Considering Lucky's current drug problem, I;m really starting to think that's pretty unfortunate nickname.

But I can't wait to meet him. You sounded so thrilled and I just wanted to share in that. I wished I was there so you could really tell me all about it and I could see the delight on your face without having to imagine it. I wish I was there so you could throw your arms around me and hold me close.

I can't wait to see him and introduce him to our son. I can't wait to see Liz as a mother and, even more so, TJ as a father. And now that Jess had matured far beyond what even I thought he was capable of, I can't wait to see him as a brother.

You do know you are a main reason that Jess turned out the way he did. You wouldn't give up on him, even when he let you down, even when I… let you have it (is that a good way to put it?), even after he left without a warning. You are an amazing guy.

That's not really the word I wanted to use… amazing… it seems now so very… not quite enough.

I don't know, maybe there's some things you can't say in a letter. Maybe there are a few reasons why this distance between us is more than just an ocean. Don't you think? I mean, saying I love you is one thing, but how can we ever truly believe in it? You forgave me and I forgave you and that's it? Everything's fixed? Because it really doesn't feel that way. I mean, what's love all about? Just this feeling, this achy feeling that presides in my heart, this wondrous feeling that spreads through my body with the first glimpse of you, is that it?

Yesterday I got off the phone with Rory, she's in the middle of studying for midterms and she just finished setting up her winter break trip to see Logan. Yup, the rich boy she's dating bought her a ticket to see him December. What's that saying? You clearly don't have the financial backing of young Huntzberger but you've come, twice, and it's thrilled me every moment thinking about it.

I mean, whatever I like or don't like about Logan, it doesn't matter. What matters is that she's sad. She misses him. She loves him.

And all I can think to write now is, I love you. I love you Luke. I really do. I love you. Now that I feel like I'm quoting Renee Zellweger in Jerry Maguire, I'll move on with it. But not, of course, before reminding you that you are not to make fun of that movie to me. I know you hate it, despite all the sports stuff, and you find such inaccuracies in Jerry's job and the portrayal of a football player trying to have that big catch and getting that awesome contract. Please, spare me, those are not the important parts of the movie.

Hey, you remember when Rory and Dean broke up? I mean the first time of course. The very first time. When I convinced you to make those chocolate chip pancakes for Rory that are to die for and you offered to put whipped cream on them and then you went and actually wrestled Dean to the ground to keep him from going in to where Rory and I were. You were so Rory's white knight that day, just like so many days. You were always there for her like you were always there for me. I hope you know I always appreciated that you were my savior as well.

Did I ever tell you why they broke up? And I don't think I did because my mind was on Max at the time and I… just realized I probably shouldn't be writing about Max to you. Although you did make the chuppah for Max and I, which now that I think about it, I find that fact quite fascinating. You've told me before that you think you had feelings for me way back then, so why the chuppah? Why would you go through all that trouble of putting together this wonderful, beautiful, gift for me, for Max and I, adding a goat on it just because you thought I liked goats, only so that I could marry another man?

Did I ever tell you that the chuppah is truly the best gift I've ever gotten?

It made me believe in love. And even though I was never in love with Max, and was even going to be in love with Max, it stood outside my house for six years reminding me that people do find that one, that I just needed to keep looking, that one day I'd be standing under it with the one I loved.

What I never realized is that I already had. That day that you brought it over and we stood under it next to each other, I had stood under the chuppah with the man I was meant to be with.

Oy, Luke, I got off topic again there didn't I? I went a few letters, I think, staying focused. Eh, what can you do, I didn't tell you to fall for a girl like me.

I was telling you about Rory and Dean. I know, it must be driving you crazy because you hate Dean so so much, and really I never understood why. He's a nice kid, a little obsessive, but I guess that's what he got for being a first love. Reminds me again of how much I thought he was just like Christopher when I first met him. Do you think all first loves are like that? I mean I have nothing to base it on, the only first loves I know are Dean and Christopher because the only people I've known when they had their first love were me and Rory. This is not to say that I've ever really loved Christopher… that's not the point I'm trying to make here.

I'm not even sure I'm trying to make a point anymore. I think I've gotten to the point where I just write and write without having a point because I know you'll read it and roll your eyes and write back that, yes, you were crazy to fall for me, but you can't tell your heart it's crazy. You know, I think I find it truly fascinating how a man of such few words could write letters like you do.

Wait… I have to find this one letter you wrote. I've been thinking about it lately and I just… well I love all your letters, but there's a reason I love this one. You know what, I can't believe I told you to wait in a letter, it's not as if you're going to keep reading it if I don't keep writing it. I think I've come to the conclusion that I come off extremely odd in letters. I was going for fascinating but I don't think that's working out for me.

Anyways, here it is:

_You were always it for me. From the moment you walked into my diner, talking a mile a minute, arms flailing, hair flying. And you flashed me that smile, that amazing smile, Lorelai. You had me. Instantly. And the minute you spoke I fell in love with you. I know I've told you that before. I think I have. I hope I have._

_And, like you said, I can't just forget all of that. _

For the life of me, I can't remember what I said that you were responding to. Maybe it was when I was pondering our live without each other or at least if we had never figured it out that you and I were supposed meant to be more than just friends. And I think I just answered my own question from earlier in this letter, when I was wondering if you told me you had feelings for me back then.

So there was a reason I was telling you about Rory and Dean. See they broke up the night of the Firelight Festival that year because he told her he loved her and she couldn't answer him. I'm not exactly sure what she was afraid. I think I had always told her that I had fallen for her father and just slept with him because we were in love. We weren't in love, that much has always been clear to me. In fact I don't think I ever thought that was the reason I slept with Christopher back then, I know it wasn't. It's hard to tell your kid that you didn't love the man you had sex with to conceive her. It's hard to tell her that she wasn't conceived out of love, that she really was an accident, the product of a lot of Jack Daniels and a lot of hatred for my parents. That may have been pretty obvious, but I think she liked, still likes, living with the innocent idea that her parents were in love when she was conceived. Allows her to feel better about herself or something.

Maybe it was the fact that I told her I loved Christopher that she was afraid to say those words. He was her first boyfriend, like Chris was mine. So many similarities, maybe she feared that once she said she loved him then she'd end up sleeping with him, not that Rory would end up doing it, but maybe she just had the naïve idea that sex is what all couples in love do. Ug, I don't know, sometimes I wonder about the example I set for my daughter.

In fact I wondered about that back then, that day that she ran away and ended up at my mother's house. I remember the look on your face when I told you that and decided to keep the fact that I knew where she was a secret for just a moment. You really cared for her all along.

But I told her that she shouldn't be scared of it. She shouldn't be afraid to tell a guy she loves him if she really means it. If she feels deep down that she's in love, that he's her Romeo, her Antony (funny both those men died for their love), then she should tell him. I told her that she was never really going to be experience the feeling of being in love if she never said it. Where I got the idea that I was the one to give her advice on this, I'll never know. She seemed to notice that too when she asked me if I was ready, I guess realizing that I had never said it myself, at least for real. And I wasn't.

I wasn't ready for years. I think a few times I thought I was in love, I wondered if this feeling in my heart was love, that it was the real thing, but I realized that I wasn't really in love before I managed to actually say it. You know I never even told Max I loved him.

But somehow, with you, it was easy. Sure it was scary at first, when I first realized it, but losing you that first time, I just knew at the right moment, I'd tell you. For the most part, I think I never really understood love until you, because no one had ever really loved me like that until you. You taught me how to love and be loved. The reason I told you this story is because, you, Luke, you are the only man I've ever really loved. And I don't know how to tell you that. I don't know if I've ever really expressed that to you, but it's true.

For a woman of so many words, I think that sometimes it's the right ones that I don't say.

Please come back soon, this place is empty without you. I feel your presence everywhere and I just want the real thing. You know, I don't know how Molly stayed so strong in Ghost. You'd think I was invincible, that I could do anything, face anything on my own, but I think it's just a mask I put on, because, between you and me, I fall apart without you. You keep me whole. You make me strong. And I'm about to sing a Bette Midler ballad, which I think would really freak you out so I'm going to go.

Only yours,

_Lorelai_


	22. November 4th, 2006

_November 4th, 2006_

Babe,

And the countdown continues. Every time I get out my planner and look at the coming weeks I stare at that big red circle around November 26th and it sends a jolt of electricity through my heart. Like on ER or whatever, when they use those defibrillators, I kind of imagine that's what it feels like, not that I ever really want to know what it actually feels like.

Luke, I love having you around again, like you belong here. You're here when I go to bed, you're here when I wake up. You're in the kitchen. In the bedroom. At the inn. It's almost like getting a taste of what it might be like to be married to you, not that I'm saying we're going to get married, but I'm just saying… I'm saying it's nice. Having you around. I'm saying I'm not easily bored with you.

It seemed, not so unusual, you know, going to the airport to meet you after you called. Graciela made sure to break into my apartment on time that morning because I've been sleeping through my alarm, I knew I gave her a key for a reason. She woke me up and played drill sergeant until I was dressed and ready to go in time so that we could be there when your plane landed. And sweet Graciela waited by a coffee stand so I could meet you on my own and not feel incredibly self-conscious.

You walked through the gates so poised, so determined, like you didn't have a care in the world. And I watched as your eyes wavered about, knowing, hoping that you were looking for me. The minute your eyes found mine, I knew the answer.

God you're beautiful.

And you came over to me and gathered me in your arms and it was like I just melted into you. No tears this time. Just your arms around me and mine around you and just holding each other. I could have done that forever. Just clinging to you. Just being with you.

Of course we couldn't stay like that so you picked up your duffel and took my hand in yours and we just walked through the airport like it was something we did every day. We met up with Graciela and you two exchanged pleasantries. We found the train and managed to take the right one. We stopped for a bite to eat and then walked to the apartment and the whole time, the whole damn time, your hand never left mine. Your eyes kept staring into mine with a gaze that could light up all of New York City, so much power behind it.

I could say you'll never know how much I missed you, but I think you made it very clear you felt the same.

Then we got home and walked into the apartment and you closed the door and grabbed my hand before I could walk away and kissed me until I was breathless, until I felt like I was flying, until my only thoughts were of you and your lips and the feeling in my heart. And I was home, where you were. And you were home.

I'm happy for Liz. I really am. I love the pictures she sent of Lucas. The picture of Jess holding Lucas included because really that's a sight to see. As happy as I am for Liz and TJ and the whole family, I'm just happy she sent you back to me. I needed you more, I'll admit that.

No, that's not it, your son needed you. He needed you so he wouldn't have to deal with his crazy mother alone in his few moments of life. And he needed you to do everything you've done since you arrived.

I mean, come on, think about the reason why I have time to write you this letter right now. Phillipe called from the inn to ask if I could pick up this stuff and we were going to go together but you said no. You told me to stay and rest and you'd figure out the map to go get the wedding supplies for that crazy man. It's my job. It's the reason I'm here in Paris. But there you go, telling me to stay home and rest and you go do Phillipe's bidding.

So I lie here now, on our bed, tucked in just as you left me with a soft kiss on my lips, and I feel like a kept woman. Damn that's nice. You've really done yourself over lately, becoming the 1950s male that Donna Reed would be proud of. Taking care of your pregnant girl and your soon-to-be-born son.

Even now I can still feel you as I did last night with that stethoscope April bought you, the bell of it on my belly, listening to his heart beat. You are a part of that. We created that. You and me together. He's our little creation.

I loved that. I told you about that Dan Hill song, Unborn Heart. I remember the first time I heard it. It was late at night back in the potting shed behind the inn and Rory was inside asleep in her bed so I had taken the radio outside as I sat on the porch. It was a warm summer night and I could look up at the sky and see the vast expanse of what I would never reach. And this song came on about a woman telling the man she loves that she's pregnant. He was scared and he already worried about his child and she told him to listen to his unborn child's heartbeat. I think then he wasn't so scared anymore. He was just filled with love for this little being that lay inside the woman he loved as well as love for the woman carrying his child. I remember I was crying that night. Somehow I felt for this man and this woman who were clearly not me at that time, but maybe I was wishing that sometime in the future that woman could be me.

So many men aren't that excited to be a father, at least it seems to me. Sometimes I wonder if my own father was ever excited about the idea of child even before he realized that child was me. Jackson was thrilled but we both know Jackson's kind of the extreme when it comes to fatherhood. Most men, it seems to me, are more like Hugh Grant in Nine Months, at least with their first child, especially when it's unexpected, like our little no name. All of these men just keep trying to savor their last months of freedom.

Christopher never seemed the least bit excited to be a father. I think if he wasn't so darn scared of my reaction or his parent's, he might have run the moment I told him of the existence of little fetus Rory. Even after she was born, he still kinda stared at her like she was a little green man. It wasn't until she got older, gained a personality and the ability of speech that he really seemed to respond to her. By then he was all the way out in California and had no desire to change his life to be a father to his daughter.

But as the days go by I see you eyeing by belly with little trepidation, more wonder than anything. You'd rather spend hours with your head near my belly, trying to imagine what your son must be like, than doing anything else. I swear you read through the book of baby names that April gave me about three times a day and we're going to have to come to some conclusion on that sometime in the near future. I mean he can't be Baby Boy Danes forever or the kids will ease him mercilessly when he goes to school.

I think I was even more amazed when Graciela called the other day, needing someone to watch her little Gaston that night, and you volunteered. She was just calling to ask if we knew of anyone who could help her out on short notice and you actually volunteered. You continued to be all right with baby-sitting even after I reminded you that Gaston might come with jam hands. I don't get it. How did you go from that guy in my kitchen claiming you couldn't handle your seventeen year old nephew because of his sticky hands to the man I saw that evening spoon feeding Gaston baby food. Maybe I'm just lucky it was mashed carrots and not something unhealthy.

It was like a scene I'll never forget until I see it with our own son, when I walked into the living room after my evening nap to find you sacked out on the couch, Gaston curled up against you, watching some cartoon on TV. You kept asking him if he liked the mouse or the cat more and then you would tease him or tickle him when he couldn't decide. It's funny because you said you wondered if you were going about it all wrong, treating Gaston like he was just a little adult, but somehow I think it works for you. Gaston clearly fell for you, just as Bradley had a couple of years ago. You don't see it, but I do. I see how the kids love you and really, despite what you say, you really do like them too. I think you're just baffled by them and you find it easier to treat them like miniature sized adults.

The more I see you with children, the more I'm understanding that I'm going to be the strict parent and you're going to be the Sugar Daddy, minus the sugar.

Speaking of sugar, I just went into the kitchen again and again your plane ticket sat on the table. It's like this giant reminder that you can never have too much of a good thing. This isn't forever. It's a reminder that I shouldn't get too comfortable in this life with you because in a couple months, you won't be here. It'll be April's winter break and you'll go home to spend time with her like any good father would. You'll go back to the diner and Stars Hollow and all of it. I really do miss it all.

I guess I should be satisfied with what I have. I've got you. Here. For the next month or so. Every night you'll be here with me. Tell me that's enough. Tell me that when you leave and all I have is our little one and the dent you've left in our mattress, it will be okay. Tell me that the ends justify the means.

No, don't. I don't want to think about it. Just tell me you love me and that's all I'll ever need to know

Yours,

_Lorelai_


	23. November 11th, 2006

_November 11th, 2006_

Hon,

I guess I'm not surprised. It's almost sweet that you're as used to writing letters as I am that even though we're living the same city, sleeping in the same bed, we still find ourselves writing. I mean it wouldn't be Saturday to me anymore if I wasn't writing you a letter. Although I prefer to find your letter on my nightstand when I wake up in the morning rather than in my mailbox.

You'd think that all this writing would mean that we're not talking, but obviously that's not true. I think we're talking more than ever. That could be because that's all I really have energy for anymore.

Which reminds me, I should thank you for forcing me to take an early maternity leave. As much as I hate to recognize it, I really needed this. I love my work. I love my job. It's true. But I'd also prefer there to be more ti my day than that. You're here and more than anything I just want to spend time with you. We've missed so much time together andI know there's no way to make up for that but at least we have now. At least we have this.

Some mornings I wake up and I look at you lying next to me and my heart skips a beat like I'm still 14 and seeing Rob Lowe on the movie screen for the first time. I look at you and I can scarcely breathe. And it's more than just because of your looks, although you are still the sexy, handsome man I fell in love with. Your hand brushes mine as we're watching a movie or you smile at me over breakfast and I wonder if I've just died and gone to heaver. And it's still more than that.

I think it's your solidness that get to me. No, I'm not calling you fat. You're there. Your permanence is a thing of beauty. Your strength and support and amazing ability to keep me together, to keep me going, to be there when things are falling apart, it really is the reason I fell in love with you. Because you're the only one who has ever been by my side, even when I really screw up, you're still there, next to me, and you don't want to be anywhere else.

Really, I have to admit, sleeping with Christopher so soon after our break up was probably the worst irrational thing I've ever done. And I get that you were angry. I get that you were hurt. You had a right to be! But you were still there. In that first moment after I told you, you physically turned and walked away but I know you didn't block me out completely. I know that, even if you didn't realize it, you knew I had fallen into such a deep hole, that really I was just grabbing at stones to keep from hitting the bottom. And you couldn't just walk away and never know if I made it, if I was all right, if somehow I had gotten myself out of my latest screw up.

Did you ever know what I heard in your voice or saw in your eyes that day that I told you I was leaving for Paris? I think you were proud of me. I thnk you realized that I wasn't running, maybe in a way I was, but not really. I think you saw what I was doing, separating myself from the situation so that I could figure out my life on my own. No Rory. No Christopher. No Emily and Richard. No Sookie. No you. Pulling me in on direction or another. I had to step away or I'd have just kept screwing up in one way or another. And I think if you look back to my first few letters before I found out I was pregnant, you'll see that's really what I was trying to do.

Of course, you'll also see what I figured out instantly: that the only thing that made any sense in my life anymore was you.

True, I didn't know where we stood or id we'd get back together or if I even wanted that. But I did know I wanted you in my life. I knew I couldn't just walk away from you and never see you again or talk to you again. Even if we weren't together, before we were together, you were still there. You were the one I searched out when I needed a hug or a smile or a little bit of faith in myself. Like the day we sat at my kitchen table and I told you not to underestimate how little confidence I had in myself and instead you went into this whole spiel that only told me that you knew I could do it, that you had enough faith in me for both of us.

You were asking me the other day if the wedding I planned for June 3rd really was that perfect wedding that I had always wanted. Did I really want a big wedding? Did I really want to get married in a church? Did I even want to get married in June? Really I think everything was moving so fast that day that I just kept saying yes. We were finally going to get married and I think I just wanted it so badly that I didn't really care if everything else wasn't the way I wanted it.

It's kind of weird but it made me think back to the day, quite a few years ago, soon after I ended my engagement to Max and you came over to help me move the chuppah out of the middle of my yard and over to the side of my house. I remember that day because we actually talked about weddings, not ours in particular, but weddings in general. True, I had planned the wedding, mostly by myself with some input from Rory and Max. But really, when you asked if it was the kind of wedding I wanted, I remember that I knew I couldn't answer yes. I told you then as I will again now, that really the only thing that I liked from that wedding was the chuppah. And I don't know why. It wasn't because it was from you, I mean you per say, but maybe because it was from a friend. It was created specifically for me because I liked goats (okay okay I'm kidding). It was created because my friend wanted me to be happy and really nothing made me happier than that chuppah. Yes, it made me happier than Max, that's how bad of an idea it was to bever get engaged to him. I'd rather have the chuppah with me all my life than him. Wait, that sounds wrong. And I can't think of how to say it correctly.

I remember you asked me that day if I had given up on marriage and I told you "for now". But really I had never really gotten into the whole marriage thing. Sure wedding were fun and it was a day that I was excited about but still, even after being engaged to Max, I had never really thought much about marriage, the life after being joined together for always. I mean, come on, after we moved the chuppah, we sat on my porch and drank a beer and toasted to the single life.

The whole sharing your life thing, I'll admit, kind of scared me. Did it scare you? I mean when we were engaged, did it scare you?

When we finally decided to move in together and renovated the house, you brought some stuff over, enough so you could wake up in our house and go on with your life. But you never really moved in. In fact, you never really seemed ready to give up your apartment. When we'd stay there, you didn't have to bring anything from our house because you still mostly lived there. And I never really thought much about it until I realized what marriage was really about. I don't mean that a married couple can't live in two different places, there are couple all over the US where one is in Iraq or something and the other is back at home. They're still married. But you didn't seem to have any real desire to form our lives into one life. You even stopped moving stuff over.

So I guess I have to ask you, were you just in love with the idea of being married, the idea that we'd be promising to be together forever with no clear view of what that would actually be like, similar to how it was for me with Max? Or did you really want to marry me? Did you really see us sharing a house and children and a life?

Luke, I'll understand if you say yes to the first question. I get it. Maybe that means it's good what happened. I mean, maybe it's good we screwed this up because neither of us had ever realized how much we wanted to share our lives.

Although, maybe it was just you who hadn't, at least by the end. Because there were mornings I'd wake up alone. There were evenings I'd come home to an empty house. There were afternoons when I'd watch TV alone on the couch. There were times when I would just stand at the mailbox and wish it said Danes and that you'd come up my driveway and park your truck there and your milk would be in my fridge day after day in the same place. But it took me awhile to come to this conclusion that that was what I wanted. That what I wanted more than everything was to share my life with you, not to live my life alone anymore. Did you ever feel like that? Because I never really got that feeling. Maybe until now, until you went back to Stars Hollow to meet Lucas and you left your stuff here, until you were here every morning, evening and night.

Hmmm… this whole marriage and sharing a life talk has reminded me of something that Rory said after I told her we broke up. She called me Maggie Carpenter. And I'm sure you're rolling your eyes expecting that I'm not going to explain this one, but just for you, I will. Maggie Carpenter was a character that Julia Roberts played in the movie Runaway Bride. And I'm not talking about this to discuss how I have suddenly become this runaway bride, it's really more about the proposal that Maggie said she wanted. She didn't want anything big like I suggested to Max with daisies and horses and she didn't want anything classic like 'will you marry me'. And when she proposed to Richard Gere (okay that wasn't his name but I don't really remember his name), she used it. She said, "Look, I guarantee there'll be tough times. I guarantee that at some point, one or both of us is gonna want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know, in my heart, you're the only one for me." I just loved the way she said it, probably why I've always remembered it.

I don't know, something about that spoke to me. And it's not about me proposing to you, it's not about marriage, it's about that life, that shared life. It's scary and it's hard and at times we'll wish we hadn't done it, but Luke, if we don't give in and finally share our lives, we'll regret it, we'll miss this opportunity.

There's no point in loving each other, in just saying the words and feeling it, missing each other when we're not together, sharing this bed, if we can't build one life together.

This isn't tennis! Love does not mean nothing!

Anyways, I guess now we don't have a choice. I mean we don't need to get married, but we're having a child together. He alone will tie us together for the next 20 or so years of our lives. Yes, you can say that Rory didn't really tie Christpoher and I together except in my mind, but you're going to be there, you'll be a father to your child, something that Chris never tried to be until Rory was in college.

You're out in the stores right now buying things I would have bought eventually after my baby shower, which was lovely by the way. You and Graciela apparently make a great team. You're out there trying to prepare us for what's to come. You think we're ready?

He doesn't even have a name, how can we think we're prepared?!

Note to self: pick a name for your son.

Yours,

Lorelai

PS. Gilbert?

PPS. Julian?

PPPS. Patrick?

PPPPS. Victor?

PP… forget it, I'm out.


	24. November 18th, 2006

_November 18th, 2006_

Dearest Luke,

I loved it. I loved yesterday. Just cuddling in bed all day while reading through April's baby name book. It was a nice day with the rain outside just to spend it together, laughing at all the crazy things that people named their kids.

I mean if America wasn't already laughing at Gwyneth Paltrow and Brooke Shields, I'd get everyone to read the names in this book for a good laugh.

But how many good things came out of yesterday? We figured out that you shouldn't drink coffee laying down, even though I swear it was decaf. We learned that just because it's cold, doesn't mean you get more of the blankets. And… oh that was it...

Kidding! You know I'm kidding. I'll bet your face turned red on that one.

We named our son. Can you believe it? It's like naming him makes it all real. Like it's more clear that in just a week or so there'll be a little person in that cradle you made, a little boy that you can hold in your arms and, hopefully, sing to. I hope he's not a biter like Rory when she ate.

Hey, this is a good question, I know you have a thing against mothers feeding their children in your diner, but does that apply to me? If I were to show up in Stars Hollow, would I be able to nurse your son in public? I'm not saying that it's a definite thing, but if it's something that would get you to make that face you make when you get mad and try to pretend you're not, I'd be all right with it. Ooh, will you yell my name like you do when I'm doing something that really annoys you? I might have to attempt this.

You're wishing I was getting back to the original topic, aren't you?

I know you know this, but I'm going to write this in as a little reminder to both of us because it's just so perfect. You know we picked the perfect name, don't you? I said that if I could pick just one characteristic of yours that he would have it would be your faithfulness and not just to me, but to everything. You're true to your word. You don't say you're going to do something and then turn around and do something else. When you commit to something you commit all the way, even if it takes 8 years for something to happen. You were all in long before I even realized I had taken one step in the right direction.

So in response I asked you what characteristic of mine you'd like me to pass on, other than my love for coffee, which I will force on him if I have to. I think I was a little shocked at your reply, I'm not sure what I was expecting except maybe my eyes. But you said that you liked my boldness, my willingness to make decisions independent of whatever anyone else would want for me. You said you liked how I can just say what I'm thinking, at least most of the time. You said that I am amazingly self-assured, or at least I seem that way, and it's something that always impressed you about me.

And so, my darling, we came up with one name. A name that means both faithful and bold.

Caleb.

I want to say we could have done better than that, I want to say that there is a better name for him but there's not. If all we can ask if for him to be true to his name: faithful and bold, then I think we've really found a good starting point.

Caleb Danes. Caleb Nathan Danes. It's a good name. Right? I think so. Danes is a good last name. I think it's strong. I think I'm rambling.

Now that we're sure you're going to be here for the birth of your son, it makes me think about how Rory and April won't be here. They won't get to meet their little brother right away. And then again, you didn't meet April until she was twelve so maybe that's also important to remember. I think sometimes even if men are there for the birth of their children they can still miss out on their lives. Like Christopher, I guess, never really trying to become a father until his daughter was too old to really need one.

What do you think is greater: the love of a child or the love of your partner?

This probably seems quite startling but I'm not asking you to love me more than you love April or Caleb, I'm just wondering. Personally I think they should be equal in your heart but can you fault a person for loving their child more or loving their partner more? I don't really have a good answer to that.

Remember that time I tried to convince you to watch that tape I had saved of Ally McBeal? We made that deal that if I would eat a salad with fat free dressing then you would watch Ally McBeal. I'm not sure who had it worse. That was the nastiest thing I ever put in my mouth. I'm not really sure how you benefited from me eating the salad anyways, except watching my facial expressions when I was trying to swallow it. But, in the end, I prevailed, as I knew I would, because Lorelai Gilmore is not one to back down from a dare.

So we ended up watching the group of episodes when Ally was dating Larry Paul and I think you just about lost it when it finally ended with Larry leaving Boston and Ally. By the way, I don't know how you didn't know that would happen considering Robert Downey Jr.'s criminal record at the time. But the way they wrote it, the way they had it him leave, it was beautiful. Because he still loved her. And she still loved him. And there was hope. But he had to leave. Ally knew that and Larry knew that. But it sucked.

Larry's son, Sam, had come back begging to live with Larry, but the boy belonged with his mother. So Larry decided to the right thing by his son and go be father instead of doing what was best for him and Ally. And even though he loved Ally, he knew his son's needs were more important. There was still hope that one day he and Ally could find their way back to each other, that one day they could manage to live in the same city and they'd get back together and be happy for the rest of their lives. But until then, they'd remain in love from a distance.

It's funny how we grow up thinking that when we become adults, when we become parents, that we'll be the ones making the decisions, when really it's actually the children that determine the path of our lives.

Maybe you never realized it, how important it was for you to do right by April, that though it may be hard for me to admit that I shouldn't come first in your life, it is the truth. For the rest of your life April and Caleb will be the most important people, if they need something you'll drop everything to be with them. It's already happened. I mean it could have happened. If Anna had decided to take April away, to use April to get you to get rid of me, you would have done that, and I would have hated it but it would have to be that way.

It's really the major thing that scared me in my conversation with Anna, because I knew that we have to do right by our children. Remember, I'm the one who went back to my parents to get money for my kid's education. I sacrificed a lot for my girl and I have no regrets whatsoever. Not a bit. Because she deserved that. As a parent I believe that my first priority should always be my child's health and happiness. And back then I know that you subconsciously thought that too. If Anna had said you choose between me and April, you would have chosen her. Because she's your daughter. She comes first. And I get that, I do.

It hurts Luke. It really hurts. But I get it.

You know, I've never loved a lawyer more in my life than the one that set up the custody arrangements for you. I know you had to be scared, to think that if you did one thing wrong you could lose your little girl. But now you won't. Now it's settled. And I know I don't have to be scared of losing you.

I hate this side of me, you know that. This clingy, needy, all Meredith Grey type of girl that I've become. Are all women like that underneath? Do we all eventually fall in love and worry incessantly that we'll lose the one we love or does it only happen when we actually have screwed up so much that we realize it's our fault that we might have lost our man forever? I'm not sure if that makes any sense to you, I'm all jumbled up right now.

It's coming though. The end of this nine month long wait is coming. In just over a week or so we'll be welcoming our little son into the world (and I'd prefer him to be as little as possible, I don't want to be giving birth to a ten pound baby!). We get to meet him and kiss him and hold him. We'll bring him home and lay him in that cradle you made. We'll watch over him and let him know we'll always be there.

And it's just… it's really scary. I've never really admitted it before but I wonder if I'm ready to be a mother again. I've spent all these weeks assuring you that you're going to be a good father that I never took a moment to realize my true fear, that I could really mess up this kid's life. What if something goes wrong and you're in Stars Hollow? What if he realizes you're all he really needs?

All these what ifs and it's all I can think about right now.

You're out again, shopping again, because Graciela realized I hadn't bought enough diapers. You see how much I suck at mothering already? I didn't buy enough. I didn't prepare enough.

With Rory I was pretty much forced to figure everything out pretty quickly or risk my parents trying to take over her parenting. So I did. I got the nurse to explain everything and I made lists and I barely left her side because I was so worried about screwing up and my parents realizing and taking over because I wasn't good enough. I'm not sure why I ever thought for a second they could be better parents, when their parenting skills were the first reason we didn't get along.

But Caleb's got you. And I'm willing to let you take over because you'll be great and you're his father. But then you'll leave and it'll be just me and him and I'm just worried I'm going to screw this all up.

Luke, you said a few days ago that you don't really remember how your parents were with Liz as a child, that your biggest role model as a parent is me. It awed and amazed me and scared me too, all of it at the same time. But I think it would be prudent to say that my role model as a parent is you, you and your faithfulness, your love for your children that knows no bounds, your drive to put them first, to make them a priority, whatever puts that little glint in your eye when you talk about what's to come.

With deep love from the future mother of your son,

_Lorelai_


	25. November 25th, 2006

_November 25th, 2006_

Luke,

It's like that TV show or movie, I really can't remember which, it's the one with the person who can't remember what just happened, all they have are little fragments of memories to piece together. Maybe it's the Demerol still trying to wear off.

But as I look over at your sleeping in that seemingly and surprisingly comfy chair next to my bed, your head back, mouth open, all I can think of is you. The feel of your hand squeezing mine tight. The sound of your voice in my ear, coaching me. The look in your eyes at the first sight of your son.

I remember my water breaking. I remember you grabbing my hand and putting me into Graciela's car and driving us to the hospital. I think I remember chatting with the doctor. But I don't remember the pain. I don't really remember how long it took. All I remember is the loud voice in my head saying 'it's time'. It was booming. And I remember, I closed my eyes trying to concentrate on you and the doctor and really just giving birth.

And it wasn't until it was over and my son was safely tucked in this father's arms and you passed him to me, letting me hold him for the first time that the voice stopped and the world stopped and time stood still.

My son. My perfect, amazing, adorable, beautiful son.

I remember the first time I held Rory. The first time the next day when I walked down to the nursery and met up with Chris and looked at my baby girl, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Chris was standing there asking me to marry him and I didn't hear him.

But you, you turn to me and whisper in my ear that you love me, and it's all I can hear. He's all I can see. You're all I can hear. And really, nothing else matters.

Is it odd that all I can think of right now is the night our beautiful Caleb was conceived? At least, it's what I think was the night he was conceived. I'm not sure who can tell us but that's what it seems to me, considering things going on then.

You had stopped in the inn that morning because you had stayed at your place due to April's visit and an early delivery and I had stayed at mine since I had to get ready for that early meeting at the Dragonfly, plus also, April's visit. So when you showed up just as I dismissed the staff with a to-go cup of coffee in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other, I was so shocked. First of all, the idea that you would even consider letting me eat and drink such food and beverage without a short argument was astonishing enough. But you were there, leaning against the doorway, with that smile on your face that only I would notice. Makes we wonder if we weren't in the middle of the inn that we might have made up for lost time the night before right then.

So you handed them to me and insisted that I take that evening off. Normally, being that it was the first Saturday night I had scheduled myself to work in awhile, I would have refused. But you had gone out of your way to search me out, to take time away from work and come see me, bring me treats and request time with me. Besides, in those times it seemed our times alone together were few and far between.

I guess you might say things got a little better after Valentine's Day, but really, did they? I'm not sure you really heard me then. And when we got back it was like all the magic that had occurred in the Vineyard, the carefree relationship we had moved back to, all disappeared the moment we crossed the line back into Stars Hollow. So maybe that's why I said yes and agreed to take off, maybe that's why I changed my usual policy to have one night with you.

And now, with Caleb, I'm glad I did.

So you met me at the house later that night. I was so nervous, and I don't know why, but I was. I even ended up leaving work early to try on every single dress in my closet, ending up with the first dress I tried on of course, the short black one that you had taken me shopping for during the day after Christmas sale just a few months before. Good choice, I think, since you practically drooled on your nice leather jacket when I walked down the stairs.

How much I loved doing that. Just picking out the right outfit that would have your eyes stuck on me the entire night.

And after I had stood in front of you for what seemed like half an hour, you finally managed a 'Lorelai, you look beautiful'. I think might have just fallen in love with you all over again that moment. Your compliments, Luke, they're so much more than just words, they instill a sense of self-confidence in me that I'd have never found if not for you. And you'd think that after all this time I'd just be used to them, the way your mouth formed the words, the gentle sound to your voice, the look in your eyes as you said the words, but I'm not. I swear my heart flutters each time.

I remember that you just took my hand, played with my fingers for a moment and looked into my eyes. Could you see my soul? Because that's what it felt like.

We got in the truck and you drove us to that Italian restaurant in… where was it? I've been trying to remember where it was so I could tell Rory about it but I think I spent so much time eyeing you, my sexy eye candy, that I didn't even look where we were going. And, really, who could blame me? You, my darling, are a stud. Yup, one handsome sexy stud all wrapped up in a Luke package (hee, Luke package) just for me.

I loved that little restaurant. We sat at one of those tables where it was almost dark, basically only lit by candles, like it was only the two of us in the world. I know inside you had some ongoing rant about the absurdities of going to a restaurant just to feel like you're alone, but you kept it all inside and I appreciated it.

It was also lucky that I could manage eating with just one hand because you never let go of my left hand, not that I would have let you. I really had no idea if you had a reason for it all but it was wonderful, to always have your hand in mine. Every once in awhile your fingers would graze my engagement ring and I think I saw your face light up, maybe it was just the flicker of light from the candles, I'm not sure, but to me it was a sign, a signal from you that you still wanted to marry me. Eventually we'd be together, for forever. And thinking about it now doesn't make me upset that it didn't turn out that way, it only warms my heart that in the worst of times, and right then we were pretty much in the thick of some terrible times, we could still get away from it all and just remember how much we wanted to be together. We still knew that when you kissed me on the porch of my inn, it wasn't a fluke, it wasn't wrong, it wasn't the beginning of an accident waiting to happen, but the beginning of something true and wonderful.

What did we even talk about? Did we talk about the food? The inn? Paul Anka? I can't even remember, can't have been that important, huh? I can't remember that but I can remember the whole feeling of the night. It reminded me of the old times, before April, before Rory left Yale, before the engagement. Just the two of us reveling in our coupledom. It reminded me of our first date and our first date after we got back together and our first date as a newly engaged couple. So much electricity, I felt like jumping up and down and I'm sure I was chattering a mile a minute. But each time I caught that look in your eyes, my heart jumped out of my chest, and in those moments I never once questioned your love.

After dinner you ordered a double order of tiramisu to go and drove us back to Stars Hollow. This time I was so interested in your game plan for the rest of the night, that I didn't bother trying to follow the path back home. You parked at my house and grabbed my hand, saying that you wanted to take me somewhere. I thought maybe we were going dancing, not sure why that came to mind because you hate dancing, although usually I can get you to dance with me.

We ended up on that little footbridge, the one you said you pushed Jess off of. I really never spent much time there although I remember Rory saying how much she loved that place. And we just sat there, our feet dangling off, barely grazing the water, which was good because I'm pretty sure the water was quite cold at that time of year. You put your coat around me and watched me eat the tiramisu, leaning away from me when I tried to force some on you. We looked up at the stars, seeing how the universe was so huge, but you and me, sitting on that bridge in the dark, that was all the world we needed in that moment.

When I finally finished the dessert, you wrapped your arm around me and I laid my head on your shoulder. I remember you tracing the outline of my hand with your finger and I knew you were working something through your brain, trying to figure out how to say it.

You asked if I knew the significance of that day, if I knew why you had insisted upon taking me out. I think I had tried not to think about it, just wanting to take the date for what it was. And you took my hand and kissed it and told me that you it had been exactly a year since the night you showed up on my doorstep and pulled me into your arms and kissed me and returned back to my life after our month apart. You said you wouldn't trade that moment for anything. You said your heart had ached without me and that moment brought you back together. You said you never wanted to forget what it would be like to lose what we had.

Times are tough Luke. We've been through the bad, the very worst, including two breakups that broke me. But we've also shared in the good the very best. And you remembered that. Even though things were falling apart, our relationship was destructing, at that moment, nothing was wrong, everything was perfect. And when you took me home and made love to me, it was like the first time all over again, it was like finding myself within you and becoming a part of us again.

That's the night that brought us Caleb. And at least he can be a constant reminder, not a once a year anniversary, but our living child. He's what we'll look at and realize what we can do together and what we will lose if we ever fall apart again.

And now, on this day, one of the happiest of my life, all I can think about is how wonderful it is, how magical love is that it can bring us from that horrible night in May to this very perfect one. You know what, it may have been terrible what I did, what you did, but I think we've learned something from all of this. When we got back together that first time, we didn't really figure out what went wrong, we had just missed each other so much that we didn't want to go over and over what you did or I did to break us apart, to try to fix what was wrong.

That was stupid, I know that now. But I think now, despite the fact that I'm going to miss you so much when you go back home, we've actually learned this time. I think we've really fixed what went wrong and I think we even understand each other a little better. I was afraid that if and when we got back together that it wouldn't be the same as it was before and it's not the same. It's better.

With all my heart,

_Lorelai_


	26. December 2nd, 2006

_December 2nd, 2006_

Hun,

I don't know how to do this. I was never really good at this whole goodbye thing so I was thinking that maybe if I start now, somehow I'll be able to let you go in just over a week. No one ever really taught me how to say goodbye because I never really was upset by people leaving.

When I was little and my parents would go on trips, leaving me behind with the nanny, I didn't really care. They walked out the door and I went up to my room to play by myself as I always did or I convinced my nanny to take me to the park so I could see other children. It wasn't hard. I didn't miss them. They were barely around when they were at home anyways.

After Rory was born, when Christopher left, it didn't hurt to say goodbye. We were barely speaking at the time. I think his parents were giving him a lot of grief for not being able to convince me to marry him and we were both so frustrated with our situations as he would barely come inside and see Rory for more than a minute when he would stop over and Rory was my entire life already. He left and came back a few times and really, I didn't care, because I still had Rory.

And you know how much it hurt to let Rory go for any amount of time, I don't need to tell you that.

I can't help but be wary of the future. I mean whatever happens between you and me, it won't just affect us anymore. There's Caleb to consider. And it makes me wonder, I mean, will he just end up being another one of those children? What if we never work things out? What if I come home and we can't figure out how to live with each other? What if we do try and it doesn't work and we end up separating?

Now don't get me wrong, I've loved every second of your presence here, but you have to admit I don't have the greatest history when it comes to keeping a relationship together. Of course you also have to consider that I've never really been in a relationship like this before. So I'm not sure what all of that says about anything.

When I look at us a few years from now I want us to be one of those couples, you know, one of those couples who have been through so much and still made it, one of those couples that's still together after all those years and more in love than ever before.

I want us to be Warren and Annette.

I was flipping through those People Magazines yesterday as I sat in that rocking chair in Caleb's room while he napped. I just hate to leave while he's napping because he looks so angelic. Not that he already isn't a little angel, he always will be to me, but there's just something about him when he sleeps that so adorable.

No, okay, I'm lying. The truth is I don't leave the room when he's sleeping because the moment I walk out the door I begin to have a panic attack. What if I laid him down on his stomach? What if he flips over in his sleep? What if he can't cry? All the stuff I read about SIDS is so scary. I think I never worried about that when Rory was just born because I didn't read up on motherhood then, I just figured I could do it on my own. But this time I wanted to do it right, I wanted to be perfect, and I was just afraid I wouldn't be unless I read every impending motherhood book out there. I swear, I should have taken stock in Spock when I first learned I was pregnant.

So the minute I walk out the door, I instantly turn around and just stand there gripped with the fear that if I actually walk away, things will go wrong. How predictable is SIDS? Is it wrong that I'm scared to death to leave him when he's sleeping? Luke, I love that little boy, I love him so much. Barely a week old and he's my moon and stars, I dream about him at night, I think about him during the day and I worry constantly.

Okay, what was I talking about, because I think I just worried myself into a little corner here and I know I didn't start by talking about this.

Oh right, the People Magazine. Sheesh, that was quite a way to get off topic. All right well, this magazine was a month or so old. It's from the box that Rory sent that arrived a few days before Caleb was born. One crazy smart daughter I have, she just knew I'd need something to keep me occupied once you convinced the docs to put me on bed rest (thank you for that by the way). I swear, she must have thought you were the most boring man alive because that box was just packed with things to occupy my mind as I laid around waiting for the birth of our son. I loved the thought, but you didn't bore me for a minute, you never could, everything about you fascinates me, the way your lips move when you talk, the various tones of your voice. Who knew I'd be happy just to be the laziest person on earth, with the exception of Rip Van Winkle?

But there's nothing in the world like spending the day with you, watching TV and talking and just laying there with your arms around me. Almost makes me want to get knocked up again.

And back on topic. Yesterday, I was reading that People Magazine and the cover article was about Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillipe. You never realize how much France doesn't care about the US until a couple like Reese and Ryan break up and I don't hear a thing about it and I know it must have been like the biggest thing in the US. Back at home, you're not a couple like Reese and Ryan, making the cover of People Magazine, and no one talks about it. Must have been lucky for them that Britney and Kevin broke up just a few days later. I'm going to take a guess you have no idea who Britney and Kevin are, but I know you know Reese and Ryan. Then again, who knows how much attention you actually pay to my chatter about celebrity gossip?

It's just so sad. I mean, yes, it's sad about Reese and Ryan. I thought they were really going to make it. I thought maybe they'd be the next Warren and Annette. I really hope I'm not jinxing Warren and Annette right now. What's sadder is that they have two little kids. The beautiful Ava and the absolutely adorable Deacon. Those poor children.

And I know, I have very little to say about it considering how I raised Rory but that's not the point. Rory's done. She's grown up. She's, well, I screwed her up on my own, and you have to consider that maybe it was better not growing up with Chris as a father considering the person he was then.

It's Caleb that I'm thinking of. Poor little Ava and Deacon are going to grow up with just Reese. Or maybe just Ryan, although the guys don't usually get custody. But when you leave all Caleb will have is me. Or you could take him with you and I'd be without him and it's all so wrong. And then what if I get back to Stars Hollow and we can't figure things out and he's forced to live in a broken home.

I have no experience to draw from, Rory never had a chance to live in a home with both of her parents. No, I'm wrong, I'm lying, she did have a chance. I'm not sure you ever even knew about it, that Christopher and I were going to try to get things together a few years ago, long before you and I ever considered getting together. It was around the time of Sookie's wedding, so it was during that big fight we had. I'm guessing you never knew.

Amazing. I thought you knew everything about me. I'm just now realizing that there are about 2 months out of my life that you know absolutely nothing about. It doesn't feel right, does it?

Yeah, anyways, we considered getting together. He had just broken up with Sherry and I can't really remember who was the last guy I had dated at that point and it just seemed like the right time since he had finally seemed to grow up. (If you call growing up moving across the country and buying a Volvo.) It was only like a two day thing but we told my parents and we told Rory. And then Sherry called and announced she was pregnant and I told him to go be with her. Big of me, right? Looking back on it now, I realize I was an idiot to ever consider that Chris and I could make it. A relationship at 15 isn't the same as 35 and I think that's something we didn't really consider at the time.

In the end, Rory was the one who was devastated by the whole thing. You'll remember that I came into the diner and fixed things up with you, all the while renaming myself Mimi, but it wasn't because I wanted to be with Chris, it was because I wanted what Chris was going to have, I wanted that whole package. And I wasn't kidding about it, I still want that.

But I think Rory got the raw end of the deal in that whole mess. She was about to have what I think a part of her had always wanted: her parents together. She was really fine about us not being together up until the idea began that we might actually work things out. So when the flame of that idea was blown out, it was Rory that was hurt the most. She was so angry at Christopher, I remember her yelling at him that he promised and I remember how much it hurt her to be angry with her father, a man she had always looked up to despite the lack of his presence. He wasn't the greatest father, I have no ideals about that, but I tried my hardest to shelter Rory from that because the way I felt about his parenting should in no way affect how Rory felt about him. He was the father she'd gotten stuck with because apparently he was the type of guy I wanted to sleep with in high school, I can't help that, I can't go back in time and change that. It took awhile for things to be worked out between them, actually I'm not sure they ever were.

And you have to consider what Ava and Deacon will go through, having had their parents together for their entire lives so far and now to lose that whole family thing.

I don't want to screw Caleb up like that. I don't want to hurt him more than anything. I love him so much. I don't want his life to be messed up because of his mother's commitment problems or stupid mistakes. I look at him down, fast asleep in that cradle and he's just at peace with the world, there's nothing to trouble him. When he wakes up you'll be home and I'll be home and we'll all be together. It's the way it always should be.

I think that's why I'm panicking so much about you leaving. It's like the anxiety I feel when I leave Caleb's room while he's sleeping. The fear of the 'what if'. What if that's the end? What if when I leave Caleb's room, that's the last time he'll be okay? What if when you leave, that's the last time we'll be okay?

Saying goodbye is a finality I can't handle. Maybe it's only temporary, I'm not sure. But if Tea Leoni had never said goodbye to Nicolas Cage in The Family Man, they'd have grown up in the suburbs of New Jersey with two adorable kids and an idyllic life. Sure no great jobs in the high rises of New York City, but that's not the kind of life that brings happiness. The love of each other, of children, of family, that's the kind of life that I'm looking. The whole package.

What if you get on that plane and we never get our whole package? I can't bear the thought of it.

Holding on,

_Lorelai_


	27. December 9th, 2006

_December 9th, 2006_

My Luke,

This just… I'm not sure I really responded well yesterday. I watched you make breakfast this morning and I could see the pain in your eyes. You're hurting. I hurt you.

And I thought… well I'm not sure what I thought. Maybe that I could never hurt you more than I already had.

Maybe I'm not the only unsure one in this relationship.

Let me make this clear to you. Very very clear. I know you love me. I know when you say you're all in that you mean it it. I know when you think about tomorrow, when you think about getting on that plane and leaving me, I know it saddens you. I know you love our time together just as I do and I know you hated out time apart as much as I did.

I do believe you when you say this is forever.

When I look at you, I can see forever.

I trust in you. You are the only thing, the only person, I've ever trusted, fully and completely. I know you don't say things just to say them. I know you mean it. And when you say it and when I look in your eyes, I know you how much you mean it.

Please believe that.

There was a time when I think I didn't trust anything, not even myself, but then you came along and when you made me believe in you, you made me believe in myself.

When I worry about being a good mother, you lift up our son and you place him in my arms and I can feel him curl up against me and I can hear his little sigh of contentment. And it's not like Rory, but I am his mother. You step away and you leave me with him, knowing exactly how to deal with my many flares of self-doubt.

My innate sense kicks in then and without even having to think about it I care for him. I keep him safe. I feed him and talk to him and rock him and sing to him. And he's fine. He's just fine. He's safe. He's safe because I'm there and my entire purpose is to protect him.

Have you ever wondered if I compare my mothering to my mother's? I think one of my greatest fears when it comes to my children is that I will end up feeling like my mother does That no matter how hard I try, daughters are like their mothers and I'm fated to end up feeling like I could never do it right.

You'd think I'd never question it considering my relationship with Rory, but I raised her to be a younger version of myself. However the older she gets, the more I realize how unlike me she really is. In a main sense, I'm much more content to go home to my house and live a settled life with you and Caleb. I just want a home filled with love. But to Rory, the word is her home, she wants to be everywhere and see everything, meet everyone. She'd never be content to have married Dean and living Stars Hollow the rest of her life and be his wife and run a little business for the rest of her life.

Maybe it's because all I've ever been searching for is love; someone to love me, fully and completely, for every aspect of my being. She's always had love. She could always trust in my love and that of her grandparents and even yours and Christopher's and Babette's and Patty's and so on and so forth. I may have been loved before you, I'm not sure, but I know I never trusted in it.

So now I'm guessing your question is why. Why did I say no?

I'll admit I had not idea what was going on yesterday evening when you walked in the nursery. We had finished that very tense dinner. The suitcases you had dragged out of the closet had been a giant elephant in the room the whole time. But then you had called to check your flight time and I swear I just had to eat silently or risk bursting into tears, wrapping myself around you and begging you to stay.

And you would. You were the one that was still slightly pissed at me but you got on a plane and flew all the way out here to a few months ago because I pleaded for you to come.

But I need to let you go now. You have a daughter back at home who was just starting to get to know you. You have a business to run with a head waitress who's six or so months pregnant. There are a million reasons for you to go and only two reasons for you to stay. And while Caleb and I are very important reasons, we don't cancel out everything else.

So I kept quiet until after dinner when I practically ran out of the room to catch my breath from the tension that had filled the room. And I ended up where you found me. In Caleb's room. In the rocking chair. Nursing our son. It was calming just sitting there listening to his little sucking sounds, thankful that he's not a biter like his older sister.

You came in and sat down in front of me, laying your hand on my knee and looking into my eyes. I wasn't sure what you were going to say when you opened your mouth and I half feared that you were going to try to stay and that wouldn't be right. I know it hurts you to leave. I know it does, Luke. Your son is barely two weeks old and it must feel like a betrayal to leave him. But I promise you, you're the only one who feels like that. I know you're upset because you missed out on April's life but I promise you won't miss anything. There's phone calls and pictures and… Luke, I just hate it. I hate that you can't take him with you and I hate that it's because of me that you're not going to be with him for every moment of his life.

I am, however, considering the idea of setting up a video camera in his room and taping his entire life in a very Truman Show-like way, so you don't miss a moment.

But you didn't say that. You didn't mention staying or ask me to come with you.  
You ask me to marry you.

God, Luke, your timing is impeccable. I know I scared you in my last letter and you felt like you needed a way to reassure me, but I thought you'd just respond in your own letter. I never expected you to ask me to marry you.

You took out that old ring box I had shut away in my drawer next to my side of our bed. Laying it on my knee you asked me to marry you. I knew what was in that box. I knew it was that ring that I've told you I love so much, that I brought with me here as a reminder, but never looked at because I couldn't handle it. But I liked knowing it was there.

At that moment, it wasn't there anymore. It was on my knee, staring me in the face as my son nursed in my arms.

You were starting at me with those beautiful blue eyes filled with love and adoration and anything I've ever searched for in one person.

I really don't know how I found the strength to say no.

I wanted to marry you. I did. And I do.

But consider this for just a moment, you're going to put that ring on my finger and then you're going to leave and the seeds of self doubt will begin to sprout again. I do trust in you, I believe that you love me and you will forever, but I don't know how to make myself always trust in it. This is the first time I've ever been faced with this unconditional love and it's hard for me to deal with. I'm trying, Luke, you know I am. But I don't want another repeat of that ultimatum and I don't like that I did that and I know I wouldn't react to your negative response in the same way, actually I believe you wouldn't respond the same way. But I don't want it to get to that. I don't like the woman I was that night.

Luke, I want to me marry you but it can't be like this. I don't want you putting that ring on my finger and the leaving for six months with my hoping for and yet fearing the future. I don't want to go through with your suggestion that you come back and get married here. I get that you don't want to wait any longer, believe me I've been there, but we need to have Rory there and April. And it can't be in this place that really means nothing to us. I want it at home. I'm not saying no forever. I'm saying when I get home six months from now, actually less than that, we should definitely rediscuss it.

I want to be your wife. I want to be Mrs. Lorelai Danes. I want to vow my love to you forever. I want, as Michelle Pfeiffer so eloquently put it in Up, Close and Personal, to have you around in the mornings and know that you're legally required to be there.

Mostly I just year for those Christmas mornings when Caleb will run into our room and wake us up so he can open his presents, those beautiful summer days when I sit out on the back porch and watch you teach Caleb how to catch and throw, and thos elate winter nights long after Caleb's asleep when we're curled up in heavy blankets and each other by the fireplace.

I think sometimes I dream about it but when I wake up I can't remember what it was about all I can remember was how it made me feel. Safe. Warm. Loved.

With a heavy heart,

_Lorelai_


	28. December 16th, 2006

_December 16th, 2006_

Baby,

If I thought your presence, the happy family times with you and Caleb were surreal, them I'm not exactly sure what to call the past few days. I feel like I wander the apartment, going from room to room and everything feels off and out of place. It's like you're a ghost and I can still feel your spirit. Thank you Patrick Swayze. By the way, don't get the wrong idea, you're hotter than Patrick Swayze.

But then the phone rings and your heavenly voice is on the other end and my heart stops racing. I put the speakerphone on and carry Caleb into our room and I swear he smiles when he hears your voice. I swear, Luke, it's not gas. He knows you.

I feel like when he's in my arms, he's always reaching for something else, I think he's searching for you. He doesn't understand what our trip to the airport meant. He doesn't know that when you finally disappeared and I pulled him against me and he could feel the wet tears on my on my cheek, that I felt the world spinning around me and he was the only thing keeping me grounded. He doesn't realize that the only reason that we're still in Paris and his daddy is a million miles away in Stars Hollow is that his mother ran away from everything she ever knew and ever trusted in, especially a side of herself that she never wanted to know, and made a promise to play a part for a year to pretend that a life in Paris, far away from friends and family, is anything close to what she ever wanted.

Mike told me about your little meeting by the way. He stopped by, bringing me croissants and coffee the other afternoon so we could discuss when I'd come back from maternity leave. Why didn't you tell me you met with him? Why did I have to find out from him? I feel like you're falling back into your old habits again, doing things and then being afraid to tell me you've done them. It's not as big a deal as say, hiding your daughter, but still, Luke, it's the principle. It makes me wonder if you learned anything. Small mistakes can turn into big mistakes you know. I know.

Apparently you asked some questions about my contract. Luke, you never asked me. I was right here. You could have asked me. I have a feeling you wanted to surprise me with a 'hey, you can come home with me' and honey, you know I would love to, but Mike didn't say that, he told you to take it up with me.

So we sat and talked for quite awhile. He said he could understand if I optioned out of the second half of my contract. He said if I wanted to, he'd fix it so I could go home with you and Caleb. On a personal level, he said his wife would throw a fit if he didn't give me an option out. Then he added if it were his choice, I'd stay. He said that I'd done such a good job turning the inn around, but he felt like the job wasn't complete.

I guess appealing to my sense of duty was his best hope. I'm like a pirate I guess, I have a sense of duty. I have an obligation to fulfill and Lorelai Gilmore is no quitter. And I think you know that. No, I know you know that because you didn't even suggest that I change my mind.

That whole last day is like one giant blur to me. I remember waking up in your arms at 3 in the morning and it wasn't even Caleb who woke me up. I just laid there for an indeterminate amount of time just watching you sleep. I wanted to run my hands over the stubble of your cheek or press my lips against the soft, warm skin of your shoulder.

Do you remember when we first started dating and I'd wake you up to watch the snow fall or listen to me tell you about a dream I had? I think you thought it went along with my goal of annoying you in your every waking moment. That wasn't it. It was more… I think I felt I was missing out by sleeping so much. I just wanted more time with just you and me, hearing the sound of your voice, the gentle timbre I might have never known if I didn't kiss you that night at the Dragonfly. I wanted more time to see that look in your eyes when you looked at me, that special twinkle, it was kind and wondering. It was like, I wanted the days to be longer, 30 even 32 hours, anything so we could just have more time together. For a woman who loves sleep as much as I do, you must have been something pretty special for me to want to give that up so badly just to spend time with you.

The early parts of a relationship are enjoyable, aren't they? I think I had a discussion with you once about it, back when Sookie and Jackson started dating. It's so much fun. Every look, every touch is so special, makes your heart do flips. But it's scary too, isn't it? You never know what the other person is thinking. Are they more into it than you? What are you going to do to screw things up?

I lied, by the way. When you asked me if I was scared by your 'all in' speech, I lied. I wasn't scared. I was frightened.

Because I wanted it just as much as you did. Over your seven week absence I'd fallen for you more and more. God, the first glimpse of you and I forgot all about Rory and her return and her troubles. I was totally taken. Do you think that's what it's like for everyone? Do you think everyone gets like that when they finally start dating The One?

I made a lot of mistakes back then. The words The One kept pounding against my brain and it scared me. I don't know why. And I didn't want to screw it up because you were already the guy I never wanted to break up with. But I did screw it up and I know I did and… there's really no explanation for it.

With or without you, I was frightened. At least with you, I could lay there with you late at night wrapped in your arms.

There's nothing like that feeling, nothing in the world like being held by you. You have great arms, my friend. I don't know what it is about them, but I love them.

Instead of waking you up that morning, I just cuddled even close to you, pressing my face into the curve of your neck and your arms instinctively tightened around me. Sometimes I can't remember what it was like before you, to never have known what it was like to be a part of someone's world so much that they were satisfied just to lie there with you in their arms, like the rest of the world didn't even matter anymore.

You remember when we were going through those rough times last spring and you weren't there every night?

Do you think Nicole missed you as much when you two were married and you'd sleep in your apartment rather than the townhouse you shared with her?

Why am I talking about Nicole? Even I can't explain what goes on in my crazy head.

Okay, I was talking about last Sunday. I finally fell back asleep, so deeply that by the time I woke up again, I was alone in my bed. That is until our son started crying and you brought him in so I could nurse him while you finished making breakfast.

The rest of the day was like a dance. I ate while you packed. You cleaned while I changed Caleb. I made phone call while you finished last minute things in the bedroom. Neither one of us really mentioned the reason why we were doing all of that, as if by not mentioning it, maybe the time would never come. Even on the train to the airport we acted like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

That's something we've got down pat, my friend, ignoring big depressing things and hoping they'll just go away.

Somehow we got our whole pretend game from the train, through the check in line and past the coffee stand where I managed to get the worst tasting cappuccino since the Rusty Cappuccino Machine Incident at the Independence Inn in '99. It wasn't until we got to that checkpoint that those of us without tickets cannot cross, not even if we're only 3 week old, that we had to finally stop denying what was happening. All I could see was people separating: husbands leaving wives, children leaving parents. I must have just lost my mind for a moment. It was completely involuntary and I'm not sure I even realized I had whispered "Luke, don't leave" aloud until your expression changed.

I shouldn't have said it, I know that, I'm so stupid. We both knew you were doing the right thing. But at least… at least I hope it made you realize that I really didn't want to be separated from you for all that time. You were wonderful though. You took my arm and pulled me to those nearby chairs and reminded me that goodbye doesn't have to mean forever. You took your son and held him and told him to take care of me, you silly man. And then, the moment that I'll never forget, when you cupped my cheek and kissed me until I forgot that there was an entire world outside of you and the feel of your lips touching mine and the wild erratic beating of my heart. You kissed me until my mind was cloudy and I wonder if you hadn't pulled away and stood up when they called your flight if I would have ever remembered where I was in time and space.

Caleb's squirming brought me back to reality at that point and I had to stand and readjust him in my arms. You brushed your hand over my cheeks and I don't think I even realized I had been crying. I wanted to tell you so much: that I love you, that I'll miss you, that these next six months can't pass any faster. I think those are the hardest things to say when you're so caught up and emotional that all I could managed was 'say hi to Paul Anka'. I think you remembered how much I hate goodbyes when all you did was kill me lightly and say "see you soon". Then they called your flight and you kissed Caleb and walked away.

It must have taken everything in you to walk away, to not glance over your shoulder and wink at me like you usually do.

Partings. Man, they suck.

And I just pulled Caleb to my shoulder and watched you disappear into the distance, just letting my tears and mascara run down my face, I didn't even care anymore.

Now it's just me. Me and Caleb. And the place feels so empty. I go on with my life as I know I should. I invited Rory for the beginning of her winter break. I think she's bringing Logan which will be new and quite odd to say the least. I made plans to start work next week and I had a sit down with Graciela's nanny, who agreed to take charge of Caleb along with little Gaston. I keep occupied. I keep going. I nurse Caleb and change his diapers and rock him to sleep.

And just before he falls asleep, he looks up at me with his clear, baby blue eyes opened up wide, and when I look in his little eyes, I can see you there.

When he's finally asleep, I lay him in his cradle and turn on the baby monitor. Then I go in our bedroom and get undressed and put on one of your flannels. I get in bed and lay my head on your pillow and breathe in your scent. And when I close my eyes, I can almost imagine your arms around me.

Miserably,

Lorelai


	29. December 23rd, 2006

_December 23rd, 2006_

My dear burger boy,

So wow, the Lorelai Gilmore that wrote to you last week is so not the Lorelai Gilmore writing to you this week. In a matter of a week my life has done a 180. You would think the inn could manage life without me for a month. You'd think that Rory and Logan could handle Paris (the city) for a week without my help. If you thought either of the two, well then you'd be wrong.

And you've been very busy this week too, my friend. I swear, phone calls seem like nothing more than a few 'I miss you's, some random comments about Graciela or April and some chatter with Caleb. Stars Hollow must be one hopping place, huh? Are they practicing the processional? Are you going to take April? Oh, did you show Patty and Babette all the pictures we took of Caleb? I'm dying to know what they think. He's cuter than Lucas, isn't he? I mean all babies are beautiful but ours just beats out all the rest. And why should he, with your smile and my eyes?

The people at work are in love with our little Caleb. Phillipe announced that he beats out little Suri Cruise any day. Although, Suri's a girl and Caleb's a boy so I don't exactly know what that says about our son's manliness. Phillipe got this crazy idea that we should host a beautiful baby contest at the inn. Thankfully, I managed to send him out on errands when Mike's son stopped in so Phillipe couldn't present his crazy idea. You know, imagining the look on your face when I tell you I'm entering our son in a beautiful baby contest almost makes it worth it.

So Phillips managed to make it in my absence, minus scheduling two weddings on the same day. According to Graciela the guests go so mixed up that one of the grooms almost signed the wrong marriage license.

It feels like the good ole days back at the inn. Graciela's checking in guests. Phillipe's planning events. They hired two new cooks because one cook wasn't enough once our numbers started going up. They're still not at full capacity, but at least they're not at half capacity anymore.

I think I've only once walked into the kitchen expecting to talk to Sookie. The Dragonfly holds a place in my heart, you know it does, but I am starting to fall in love with this place. Taking it from what it was back in May to what it is today, it's almost like creating the Dragonfly all over again. Thankfully this time it's using Mike's money not mine. We don't want another episode of Meltdown In The Park, do we?

Do you remember what I said to you that night? I said a lot of things, I know I tend to get a little blabbermouthy when I get upset. You probably don't remember much past my blurted out request for 30,000 dollars. I get it. But I told you that, thought I love my independence, sometimes I wish I was married, that I had a partner to pick up the slack. It's funny, now that I look back on it, I always had a back up even when I didn't realize it. Did you know that?

When I needed money, you were there with a loan. When I needed a ride to the hospital, you closed your place of business and drove me there. When I needed to get away from Patty's scary suitors at the Bid A Basket festival, you paid $52.50 for two poptarts and a slim jim. When all I needed was a kind word, you told me you had faith in me, you said I could do anything.

You know, Rory said something to me, way back last Valentine's Day when we spent time with Rory and Logan out on the Vineyard. We were in the kitchen making dinner, I was beating up the mashed potatoes, and you and Logan walked through the room. She'd been telling me about their planned trip to Asia which didn't happen much the same way that our wedding didn't happen. And then she turned to me and said 'these could be the ones'.

I'm not sure what scared me more: that Rory only thought my fiancé might be the one or that Rory thought Logan could be the one. I know I said then that I was questioning whether we'd actually get married, but I never really saw it. I never saw me walking away. I never saw myself taking that ring off my ringer. I never really saw my life without you. No matter what was going through Rory's head, I always knew you were The One. Even when I walked away from you that night, even when I told you the next day about Christopher, even when I got on the plane to France, I never changed my mind. Whether we were together or not you were still The One for me. It's hard to consider the idea that the man you know you belong with, you just can't be with.

You ever see Annie Hall? I can't remember if that was one of the million movies I forced you to watch with a promise that I'd be thanking you later. Near the end, Annie decides she doesn't belong in New York City and moved to LA to begin her singing career. She thinks she wants more out of life than what Alfie can offer her, beside Alfie didn't want to marry her. At least, he didn't until he lived for a time in New York City by himself. He missed her. All he could think about were all their times together. When she called him to kill a spider. When they had that talk in the library. When he held he while she cried. Their fights over her schooling and over whether she should smoke weed before sex.

And he knew his life was empty without her. So he flew out to California and asked her to marry him. She wouldn't even hear it. She wouldn't hear him out. She said no and got up and left.

Eventually she moved back to NYC, because that's where she really belonged but Annie and Alfie didn't get back together.

What was my point here? I guess that I know that Paris isn't where I belong and it's not Hartford either. Stars Hollow is my home and you should know that. And I know I said no to your proposal, like Annie did to Alfie, but I will come back ot you. When I come home we'll fix this completely. I don't need to be high to have sex with you and I don't need drugs to spend time with you. I'm not Annie Hall is what I'm trying to say. I know you're The One. I know you're the one I belong with.

I may have walked away. I may no have that ring on my finger. I may be living my life without you. But I do see a future for us, I see everything for us: marriage, Caleb, maybe a dog and cat, even a white picket fence.

I wonder if Rory sees that with Logan. She said he could be the one. She's ten minute away in a hotel with him after coming all the way to Paris to see her mommy. I'm not saying I expected it to always be the way it used to be. I mean when we were on the Vineyard, I didn't just hang with Rory, I definitely made times for Gilmore Girls time, but I slept with you, I walked the beach with you.

Sometimes I just miss my little girl. I hold Caleb in my arms and I can't remember Rory as a baby. I see her in our first night at the Independence Inn. I see her the day my mother held her in her arms and my heart dropped and I knew I had to leave. It's like starting all over. I'm a mother again. I have a baby again and Rory's not my child anymore. She's got Logan, that's all she needed.

I have Caleb. I have you. But that doesn't mean I don't need Rory anymore!

She's only 22, she doesn't need to have found The One yet. When I was 22, I had a 6 year old, a day job as a maid and no dating life whatsoever. I was still 5 years away from meeting my One. I mean, come on, Macauley Culkin got married at eighteen and divorced before he could drink. Didn't Britney Spears get married at 22? Something like that. Unless you're really a caveman and you're not actually listening to me when I talked then you probably know how her marriage turned out as well. I don't want Rory divorced, a single mother of two kids under age 3 and screwed out of a career by the time she hits 25.

Friday after work, I left Caleb with Graciela for a couple hours and met up with Rory and Logan at the Louvre. Are museums bore the hell out of me and they always did for Rory too, but walking around the place I felt like I was the only one playing fascinated. I could hear you mocking the whole thing in my ear, not just the 'modern art' but Logan's high class soliloquies about each painting. Seriously, we'd walk up to another painting of Jesus as a child and Logan had to point out how the type of paint symbolized this and the weird smudges symbolized that. He had to explain how the artist was affect by his own history to create the unoriginal image of Mary holding baby Jesus.

All I really wanted to know was why wasn't Joseph in the picture? Sure, he wasn't Jesus's father, but he was Mary's husband. He was there for Jesus's birth. When Joseph and Mary couldn't find room at an inn and she went into labor, he didn't freak out and ditch her.

Do you think if you had known me when Rory was born, if you'd have been there for her birth? Of course you would have. Of course you would. You'd have raised Rory like she was your own. You always said she means more to you than yourself. I really do believe you mean it.

So let me ask you this, if Logan came to you and asked you for Rory's hand in marriage, what would you say?

I thought as much.

But it is scary. I watch them at the restaurant and the way she looks at him and the way he keeps his arm on the back of her chair. It almost reminds me of us. Not the now us, but the year ago us. A comfortable relationship but no real understanding of what a true commitment means. Sure they lived together for a little while last spring, but still. Sometimes I think I see the question marks in her eyes. She never told Logan she kissed Jess last year when she went to Jess's store opening. She was afraid to tell him when she first moved out of his paid for apartment into her own. It's not settled, you know? Like we were back then.

I mean he hasn't asked her to marry him or anything, but I think I live everyday in fear that he will. They're in the City of Love. People are known to do some crazy romantic things here. It scares me.

She's still my little girl.

And even if it does have to be Logan, and let me add that I still haven't formed a complete opinion on that boy. I'd prefer if the wedding didn't happen until Caleb was old enough to walk down the aisle on hi sown, hopefully not unti he's old enough to drive a car down the aisle.

You know, Rory's great with her little brother. For a girl who's as freaked out about babies as she is, she's sure taken with our little one. I'll have to send you some of the pictures I took of Rory holding Caleb. I haven't gotten her to change a diaper yet and she's still freaked out about me nursing him, but I'll work on her.

I was worried though. The first time she held Christopher's daughter Gigi, I was afraid she was going to drop the poor girl. But she just walked over and took Clabe from me and it looked so natural. She loves being a big sister too. It's so adorable. She babysat for Caleb on Thursday while I was at work and Logan was meeting with one of his father's friends and she was thrilled. She said that she had a great time and I actually believed her. And Caleb, my darling boy, managed to only spit up on Logan. You'd have been proud.

Is April as excited to be a big sister? I can't wait to see how she is with Caleb.

When you look at April, do you see Anna? Sometimes I try to see Christopher in Rory. But when I look at Caleb, all I see I you. Rory thinks he looks more like, but I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I want to see you that he's just like a little you to me. Even when the house is full with Caleb and Rory and Logan and even Graciela and her family, like during brunch this morning. Something is still missing. Someone is still missing. And during the silences, all I can hear or see is you.

Getting by,

_Lorelai_


	30. December 30th, 2006

**Author's Note: **So I've been asked a few times if I still do author's notes. Yes, I do. I've just been really busy with a lot of things so I thought you prefered at least that I got the chapters out and on time. I've been reading your reviews and I'm so glad you've been liking the story so far. And I'll leave you with this promise, Luke and Lorelai will not spend the entire next six months apart, I have some definite visits planned so stay tuned.

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_December 30th, 2006_

Babe,

Can I say it now? I completely understand the meaning of the Christmas Doldrums. I thought it was just something old ladies would say when their husbands had died years before them or single people would say when they were alone again for the holidays. Although I was single for quite a few Christmases, in fact I was single more often than not, and I never used that little phrase.

And now I'm sitting here trying to tally how many Christmases I wasn't single. Technically there was that one with Jason but he was in Australia and I wasn't really missing him that much. So overall I'd count 2 Christmases, both of them with you. Not a bad list, my friend, not bad at all.

I think, at least lately, I'm preferring our first Christmas together. Sure you're probably wondering why, since last year we were engaged and you'd think I would prefer my Christmas with my fiancé to the one with my boyfriend. But do you remember that Christmas? I swear I thought I'd have to put on a clown suit to get your attention. You seemed so lost, so distracted, so much that if I didn't know you I'd wonder if you had some little chickadee on the side. But I did know you so this made me more curious. Because what on earth would make you draw away from me?

It wasn't your parents, we'd already over-discussed that topic and you seemed to want to open up to me more about that than anyone.

I thought that maybe it was my new haircut, maybe you didn't like my hair long, and you were too ashamed to say it because I might send you on Queer Eye for a Gay Guy rather than for the straight one.

Sometimes I'd call your name, I'd walk over and sit in your lap as Rory opened her presents and your arms instinctively went around me but I couldn't feel you. You weren't in that hug or the kiss that followed. I wanted to shake you and if I had any strength I might have. I wanted to know so badly.

You know why I didn't ask, right?

More than anything I thought you'd changed your mind about the wedding, that just when we could start making plans now that Rory had come home, you had realized you didn't want to marry me and you didn't know how to tell me.

After I met April I began to question everything, every reason why you might have kept her from me, and mostly I just kept settling on questioning if you really loved me. But I think I'd actually started wondering that in the back of my mind before I met her. I think when I realized you were keeping something from me, I wondered what kind of man wouldn't tell the woman he loves something. Something this big that would have him draw away from everything that ever seemed important to him. And I think that's the only reason that I kept wondering if it was even possible you were having an affair, because seriously that was all I could come up with, that was the only reason I thought you might not tell me something this huge.

Either that or you really didn't love me like you said you did.

You didn't really love me and you didn't really want to marry me and you couldn't find a way to tell me.

Oh Luke, I am ridiculous. I'm sitting here using tissue after tissue, crying because I can still feel it, that pain that tore me up thinking that you didn't really love me. I didn't want to know, I didn't want to hear it. And it wasn't really true so it makes me feel extra crazy for crying over it.

All I can say is that I'm glad you've always said that Christmas wasn't your favorite holiday. I think the first time you told me I was completely shocked. I mean, what kind of child hates Christmas?

Well I guess a Jewish child would.

But you're not Jewish.

You told me that whole story about how your parents weren't big on Christmas. Since your mom was raised Jewish and your dad was raised Christian, they'd decided to leave religion out of their lives. You explained how you'd exchanged a few small presents on New Years or something but it only made birthdays more special. Which leaves me to wonder why you hate your birthday so much, but a different topic for another time. I was so amazed by that whole admission that I made you pick a favorite holiday. It totally threw you off as I recall because we were in bed and kissing and getting read to strip down and have some fun, but just before we could get any farther, I grabbed my shirt closed and refused to let you remove it until you picked a holiday.

And I added that Arbor Day doesn't count.

So you chose Thanksgiving. I guess I didn't really understand it then, at least not like I do now, but it's like your Christmas, I guess. Minus Santa Claus and presents, which really are the best parts. I mean what's better than trying to figure out how a really fat guy could fit down my really skinny chimney? But I think the big thing that people really love about Christmas is times to spend with family, lots of food too, but just feeling warmed by the presence of family is wonderful. And you never really had that on Christmas, after your mom died and then your dad, it was just you on Christmas and unlike Thanksgiving you couldn't just stay open and hope that people would come in, because other than Rabbi Baron, who said he did the old Jewish tradition of movies and Chinese food, you'd have no one

But on Thanksgiving people came to the diner. Once we met, you always had dinner with Rory and I and it was like a little tradition. I guess it was your one chance to spend a holiday with a family, not one that was yours yet, but still the closest you could find.

Even this year our Thanksgiving was pretty special. Two days before Caleb was born and you were going out of mind with fussing over me and all I wanted was turkey and stuffing. So you went out to the store and did the best you could in a country that doesn't actually celebrate Thanksgiving. It seems so easy to go shopping in the US during Thanksgiving, everything that we need is all set out and separated but in this country you had to really hunt for it. And what a good job you did.

It was actually kind of fun to have Graciela and her family over for our holiday, she kept wondering if she was screwing something up and I had to keep explaining that Thanksgiving wasn't about that. There was nothing to screw up unless you missed the Macy's Parade, which of course we did because it wasn't really taking place in France. Next year we'll have to make up for it by actually going to NYC and standing in the cold hoping for a spotting of the Rockettes or Katie Couric. Well I guess Katie's out since it's Meredith Viera now, isn't it? Huh, that must have been a strange parade.

So it wasn't family, at least not quite. Rory wasn't here or, I guess now, April. But it was something. It was my Paris family and you, of course, and Caleb who definitely made his presence known through out the meal. And I'll admit, like you, I prefer it to Christmas this year because I got to spend it with family. Though I spent Christmas with almost the same family, but it wasn't… it wasn't complete.

I think I would have traded it all in to have you here.

You may not think much of Christmas. You may think I make too much out of the holiday but I remember when I was little I'd try, like every little kid, to wake up as early as possible to go open my presents. And I really have no idea why I did because until Rory got old enough to buy me something, I never really found the presents very useful. Just itchy lacey dresses and gloves and items I thought were ridiculous. I never got to do the whole run and jump on your parents' bed to wake them up and make them let you open your presents either. Instead I'd go and wake my nanny and we'd sit on the bed in her room and exchange our presents. Hers were small, simple but I think I treasured them more because she actually put thought into them.

Don't worry, Rory never did the run and jump thing either because most of the time I was more excited than her and I'd wake her up.

But next year, or probably more likely the year after since at just over one I highly doubt Caleb will be running and jumping or even climbing out of his crib on his own, we'll have our own child to run and jump in our bed and wake us up. I can't wait for that.

Next year, right? Seems so far away.

The one thing I can appreciate about the diner being closed on Christmas is that after you left Liz's and Caleb and I left Graciela's you had all the time in the world to talk to us on the phone. Of course we haven't talked on the phone for more than a minute or two since after the price of that phone call. I don't care, I'll sell all my presents to make up for it. Your voice on the phone was better than anything anyone could have bought me.

When I hear your voice I wonder how I could have thought you didn't love me, I can hear it in your voice. I can hear how much you miss me, how much you wish we weren't half a world apart, how much you prefer I lived in Paris, Ohio rather than Paris, France.

I take it back though, I wouldn't trade in all my presents. I wouldn't trade in my present from you, not for a million years. As much as I loved shopping, I have to admit you're impossible to buy for. It had to be something perfect. It had to be something right. Something that would show you how much I miss you and love you all at the same time without being too cheesy and sentimental. So what do you think? A three picture frame set with a picture of you and Rory and you and April on either side with a picture of the three of us in the middle. You're going to tell me to stop worrying that I didn't do your gift justice, but I do worry because you did so much better.

Two plane tickets to Hartford. What could be a better present than going home? It's only a week, yes I know we're both painfully aware of that, but I don't care. A week with you. A week of Stars Hollow. Of Babette and Patty and Kirk and Sookie and Jackson and Michel and… well you know I have to be thrilled if I'm excited to see Michel. A week to show Caleb the place he's going to grow up, to cuddle up in bed in our house in a place that just smells and feels and seems so right. I really do ache for Stars Hollow and home.

It's a wonder I didn't start packing the moment I got the tickets. February. I have to keep reminding myself that February isn't that far away. That before I know it I'll be home and everything will be right and just as it should be.

Merry Christmas with love,

_Lorelai_


	31. January 6th, 2007

**Author's Note: **I apologize greatly for the break I had to take without warning. I planned to have another letter out before I left for the holidays but that did not happen as such. I hope you all had wonderful holidays as I did.

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January 6th, 2007

Dearest Luke,

Well, it's certainly been quite a year for us, hasn't it? Considering that a year ago I'd have never expected my life to anywhere close to what it is now, it's quite shocking to look over the past year. Who'd have thought we'd never have married? Who'd have thought that I'd be in Paris to begin the new year? Who'd have thought that we'd be together but not married, living in two separate cities, me in Paris along with our six week old son?

I see no one raised their hands.

You know, I can never get through a single New Years without watching When Harry Met Sally. I write that as if I don't know you know that, but I do know you know that. And that sentence was quite confusing now wasn't it? But they don't know we know they know we know, do we? Forget it, another reference you're never going to get.

Back to what I was saying, which is that you know very well that I watch that movie every New Years. I remember that first New Years after we'd gotten together, I told you to come over at 5pm to head over together to Ms. Patty's for the town celebration. You put in your usual complaint that you thought town celebrations were just a way for everyone to get drunk together and kiss each other's partners to which I insisted that the only person I intended on kissing was you, no matter how drunk I got. But you showed up just as expected, looking ravishing as always, in fact I did ravish you not long after we got back home as I remember correctly. You were stunned to realize that I didn't intend to leave the moment you showed up but instead that I planned this to get you to watch When Harry Met Sally with me before we left. After grumbling a bit you gave in and settled on the couch where I snuggled up against you to watch my traditional movie.

I have to make a small admission now to the fact that you weren't the first person I tried to con into watching the movie that night. See it had always been a ritual for Rory and I to stay up late, eat lots of clam chowder, watch When Harry Met Sally and toast with sparking grape juice at midnight. Okay another admission, I always told Rory that we were toasting with sparking grape juice, and believe me, she was, but I wasn't. She used to get so mad at me when she'd finish hers quickly but I wouldn't share mine. I know you thought I was some kind of monster to allow my young daughter to drink coffee, but I was not crazy enough to allow her alcohol until she was at least at the age I was when I had my first drink. I hesitate to inform you what age that was.

Unfortunately that night Lane's band had landed a gig at some club somewhere between Hartford and New York City. I'm not really sure where. I'm not sure I ever knew. I wasn't really listening when she told me past the whole 'oh sorry Mom but not this year'. Ug, children grow up don't they? Then she added the whole 'but you have Luke this year' thing. Yeah, and don't take this the wrong way, but I really wasn't ready for our time to be over. Did it seem at all to you that in order for us to be together that my time with Rory had to disappear?

Can we ever be parents and significant others at the same time? The unanswerable question I suppose.

I mean here I have Caleb, the light of my life, I swear there isn't a moment when I don't gaze at him in amazement at all that he is. He's so perfect and when he grabs onto my fingers I feel like he knows who I am and he trusts me to be a good mother to him. I don't know where he gets that faith from, how he knows that I'd do anything for him, it's mind-bogging. Meanwhile, you, my love, are an ocean away. But I sit here, writing to you as he sleeps, and when you call and you ask for just a moment with me, I put him in the playpen to give myself a sense that it's just me and you. I know there will be baseball games in his future. I'll go and sit in the stands and watch as you coach and he plays and I'll be both yours and his at the same time, but when I watch him, it will be with the pride of a mother, and when I turn my gaze to you, my heart will fill with the intensity of my love for you. When Caleb's around it will be time to be parents and when he's not it will be our time to be whatever we want to be with each other.

You know another unanswerable question, can a man and a woman ever be just friends? And I hope you remember where I get that from, but in case you don't, it's from When Harry Met Sally. There you are, I've returned us to my original topic. How amazing was that? Let me take my bow now.

There's that part from the movie that kept running through my head after New Years, when Harry's talking about the song Auld Lang Syne, actually sounding a bit like you would if you had ever really listened to the words of the song. He asks if the song is saying we're supposed to forget old acquaintances or remember the ones we've forgotten, which isn't possible. That's a question that's always puzzled me as well; the meaning of that song. From what I've heard is that the words auld lang syne mean the days of long ago.

Should old acquaintance be forget and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot and auld lang syne?

What on earth are we saying here? Are we asking ourselves if we should just forget the past and live for the present? Sieze the day? Carpe diem! Are we wondering if we should forget those that have faded into our past and hold close to those who remain? I'm not sure if I'm asking rhetorically or not.

That's really what we've done though, you and I, we've put the past behind us, that auld lang syne. Over the past year we had our share of troubles basically centering around my doubt in your love and my betrayal of your love and though you've told me time and again not to blame myself entirely, all I've managed to do is put the past behind me and hope that I never become that person again. I've worked at my faith in you and your love so that I can have what Caleb has, an innocent ideality about those who care for me, an unending belief that those who love me will never fail me.

I've never had that, I don't think, at least as far back as I can remember. As a child I was a skeptic about those kind of things. With parents like mine, I'd expect that wouldn't be hard for you to believe. When Rory was born I think it scared me to realize how easily most children trusted their parents. Did Ted Bundy's little girl have that kind of faith in him when she was born? That is before her mother wised up and hid both of them away. What about John Gotti? What did his children think? Or Mikkos Cassadine?

Paul Anka relied on me almost immediately. The dog of course, the human only appeared to me in that dream I told you about. And he trusted you too. You were the one who knew just what to do when he got in trouble with that chocolate.

Personally, if the song means something about putting the past behind us, that's not a bad idea, but I wouldn't like to forget everything. I mean, we're supposed to learn from the past, or maybe the song is saying we should take what we get from the past and move on. I don't know. There's memories back there that I really just couldn't stand to forget. Little things. Big things.

You remember that last New Years together when I resolved to become a better housewife for the future. I started it off on January 1st by getting up early and trying to cook you breakfast in bed. If you can't tell, I'm snickering right now. At least I had good intentions when I tried to burn down your apartment. See the problem was, as I was waiting for the soufflé to cook (or burn), I was counting the eggs and then I got bored so I started giving them voices and names and by the time you woke up to the smoke alarm I'd basically acted out an entire half an episode of Will and Grace. I just couldn't let you eat Will! Eric McCormack is too darn cute and he's actually straight!

Anyways… speaking of resolutions, isn't New Years about all that jazz? Resolutions. Moving on. New beginnings. All of that? I've never really been one to make resolutions. Yeah I had that whole thing last year, but it was a joke. You have to admit both of us knew it was such a joke. Me, a housewife? Yeah, you're laughing now, Buster. I mean I never really felt the need to lose weight or buy a gym card. I never really wanted to organize my life or do anything more or less than I've already been doing. So what would be the point of a resolution?

I think the saddest thing about this new year is that I'd rather if most of the beginning passed by with out me even knowing. Sure there'll be some great moments with Caleb during the first few months of his life, I wouldn't want to miss that and…

Hey, you know that Jim Croce song, Time In A Bottle?

If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do, is to save every day till eternity passes away just to spend them with you.

That's what I want. I want one of those bottles. I want to take all of those moments that I wish you were here or that I say to myself, man Luke would find this funny or interesting or sad and hold onto them until you can participate. It would be fine with me if I lived the next few months of my life in banality so that every important, significant event, thought, whatever, I could share with you.

Then I want to bottle up each moment that I've already spent with you and share them with you again.

If you think about it, 2006 didn't start or end too badly for us. There was some stuff in the middle that it would be okay to forget, but overall it wasn't the worst year of my life. I'm not sure I could hazard a guess what year that would be, but I don't think it was 2006. At least, I hope it wasn't.

So I think this gives us hope for 2007. It's certainly beginning well. Although that could always mean things could fall apart in the middle. Wait! I've got it! My resolution and this isn't something that I can accomplish in one day. I resolve not to let 2007 fall apart in the middle. I resolve to keep this whole thing together. Not to run. Not to get scared. Not to fear that after all this time, you've written to me and then laughed at my letters with your new girlfriend. You're not, are you? Is she really that much prettier than me?

Breathe, Luke, I'm kidding.

Do me a favor. Get a bottle of cha-- beer. You'd prefer that. Take a long look at that picture we took before you left of you and me and Caleb and that whole set of frames I sent you for Christmas. Remember that as long as we take a moment to think about them and think about us, we'll know, we'll be sure, this thing we've got going on, is the greatest hope for a wonderful 2007 and many future years to come after that.

And raise your glass (bottle) to a new year. 2007 will be our year.

Wishing I could kiss you at midnight,

Lorelai


	32. January 20th, 2007

Someone asked in a review how long it would be before Lorelai goes to Stars Hollow and the plane tickets are for February, but probably mid-February. Also, she'll go home for good exactly a year after she left Stars Hollow so end of May.

Thanks for the reviews, hope you're still liking the fic!

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_January 20th, 2006_

Hey Babes,

Wow. Let me tell you, what a crazy two weeks. It's like you never know what to expect and just when you think you've got it all figured out something else happens. Things felt so Jetson-like (you know, out of this world… forget it, I think I suck at making jokes lately).

One would think that you of all people would know what's going on over here, considering how often we talk. Can I say how much money my cell phone company is making off of me being out of the country? All I can say is that I should've amended my contract to get Mike to pay my cell phone bill so that I actually felt like I was making a little bit of money here. But when we talk it's not really about anything, it's just… do we sit in silence sometimes? I feel like I can hear your thoughts through your breathing. You say my name and that's all I need to hear sometimes because just the way you say it, your tone of voice, I feel so much, it's like a song. Sometimes, I mean if we were incredibly rich, I wish you'd set your phone on speaker phone in the middle of the diner so I could hear everyone around. I probably would almost be able to smell the blueberry pancakes and taste your irresistible coffee.

If I could categorize everything we talked about over the phone I'd come up with a basic list of Caleb, the girls, sentimentality and fantasies (not that kind! I've got a two month old sleeping next door!). (I also just winked at a piece of paper.) Do you think it's a little strange that we don't really talk about our daily lives often enough for me to even set that aside as its own category? I know you're probably responding with something to the effect of 'nothing happens in the diner, I serve food, people eat food, I clean up food, people pay for food (hopefully)'. Luke, I know full well more happens in your life than you let on. Some days Kirk decides he'll only eat hamburgers if you put a smiley face on them in ketchup first. Some day one of those Banyan boys accidently knocks a baseball through your window. Then of course the town festivals and such.

Is it just not something we talk about? There are so many little stories I could tell about Graciela and the crazy people who insist that they know English but then I can't understand a word they're saying. I'm not even sure Graciela, who not only knows French and English but German as well, understands them. But I don't seem to tell you these stories when we talk over the phone. Sometimes I feel like our phone calls seem so short that I barely have time to tell you everything there is to know about our little boy and whisper about how much I miss you before you have to go or I do or Caleb needs me.

So I guess there are a million things I could tell you about from the past few weeks, but I think the most interesting thing is that I ran into Sherry. You know, Christopher's Sherry. Or maybe you don't know. I never remember what I've told you about Christopher's life because even before we got together you used to get so uptight when I talked about him. I guess the fact that most of our worst moments of the past few years either happened in the diner or ended up with me crying in the diner.

Now I know you don't really want to hear about Christopher and I don't really want to talk about him but this is something I need to tell you about. And it's nothing scary, Babe, don't worry. I'm not such an idiot as to do anything that would put our relationship at all on the line. I'm settled with you, with Caleb, that's all I want. But this goes back to something you asked me about a few months ago so I feel it's only right that I tell you about it.

I took Caleb to one of the million parks here last weekend. I think, if he could talk and I could ask him what he liked most about Paris, he'd say it was the parks. Everything's so beautiful here. There are so many parks and just so many places for a little one like him.

Do you think he remembers when you were here and we took him to the park? It was so sweet. I was still so exhausted from his birth that I just sat on a bench nearby and watched you show him around. You told him about the pond and the birds in the sky and pointed out the little children playing with the soccer ball (though I did think it was funny that you told him to call it a football for the next 6 months). You always told me you didn't know how to talk to kids but I don't know, it's like Caleb had this power over you, he was just so much yours right away that you didn't even seem to hesitate one bit, even after all those months when I was trying to convince you that you'd be a good father.

You know what I remember from the day of his birth. I remember you. You weren't the least bit frightened. You were everything all at once, so solid, so sure, just what I've always loved about you. It the part of you that kept me together even before we were dating, that you were always the ground beneath me, holding me up, always steady, always there. And on that day, when I walked into the kitchen with that look on my face, in too much pain to even tell you what was going on, all you did was kiss me, tell me it was time and everything was going to be okay and then you called a cab and we were on our way to the hospital.

We got to the hospital and you took care of everything, as I tried to keep from blacking out from the pain. I really didn't remember it being that bad when Rory was born, though I think I did threaten to bite one of the nurses back then, so I might be wrong.

When the doctor came in and said it was time to start the process, you tucked my hair behind my ears and looked me directly in the eyes. You told me you loved me and you knew I could do this. I would've done anything for you in that moment, I swear I would've tap danced your name across the diner. You took my hand and kissed my forehead and the whole time you whispered in my ear. Words of encouragement. Words of love. A million things that I can't even remember anymore but I'm not sure I could have done it without you. And the thing id, when I looked over at you, I saw that you weren't the least bit scared, you weren't the least bit unsure or hesitant. You knew just what to do and say and you were ready.

And the fact that suddenly I felt my heart drop out of my chest as the tables turned, you were there to hold me up and keep me strong and that's the only reason I know that Caleb's got it made with you as his father.

Sidetracked once again, but I think you don't mind me writing about the day our son was born. Anyways, I was telling you about the day I ran into Sherry. Let's see, Sherry is the woman who Christopher married a few years ago, gave birth to his daughter and then left town. I guess she still sees their daughter, Gigi, because that was the little girl that was with her when I ran into her in the park. I think it amuses me every time I hear her name because I remember Leslie Caron playing that courtesan-wannabe. It adds to the joke that Gigi's living in Paris, since that Gigi also lived in Paris. The whole thing makes me want to sing 'Thank Heaven For Little Girls'. (By the way if you have no idea what I'm talking about, rent the movie Gigi, it's a guaranteed winner.)

The point of this whole spiel was not to talk about my meeting with Sherry, which was mostly some awkward chatting and a few made up lies to get away from each other, but to tell you about the ramifications. Thinking about Sherry and Gigi lead to me thinking about Christopher, which as you know is something I've tried not to do since the moment I stepped on that plane months and months ago. But I got out that letter you wrote me, the one where I thought you were going insane and I might have to call the men in the white coats out to go get you, the one when you told me that I should talk to Christopher. I still wonder what made you suddenly decide to tell me I needed to talk to him.

Like I said then, though, I couldn't talk to him. At the time I thought that the only thing talking to Christopher would do was remind what a horrible thing I had done, it would make me realize how much I hurt you and hurt myself as well. But I was wrong, wasn't I? I mean not completely, as it did make me think about that, but it also was something I had to do.

Have I ever told you how incredibly smart you are? Even when I think you're doing the dumbest thing, it's actually the smartest thing you've ever done. One of the biggest reasons I wasn't ready to go back with you in December was that there were still things that were unresolved and what I didn't realize was that the biggest problem was Christopher. I couldn't just ignore that and come back to Stars Hollow, run into him at Rory's graduation and know what to do. Knowing me, I'd become flustered and I'd start blabbering and never actually say what I needed to say until you knocked me upside the head.

So I called him. And it was... the most incredibly awkward phone call I've ever participated in. It knocks our phone call when I told you I was pregnant right off the list. You know what's crazy, in all this time, while I've been thinking about things, trying to change myself, trying to make things better, he's stayed exactly the same. He was just waiting for me to come home and still be the woman who went him that night, lost, confused, completely out of her mind. He thought everything was okay and he and I could go on as if I hadn't actually done this horrible thing by sleeping with him. It nauseates me even now to think about what he said.

I did, however, manage to speak my mind. No, I didn't tell him off, though that might have done the trick. But the thing was… the thing… here's the thing, I was on my cordless phone in the living room playing with Caleb as I was talking to him and I just couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculous I was being. There in front of me was my gorgeous child, my beautiful baby who is part of you and part of me and he's just one of the best things I've ever done, and I'm on the phone with a man who could have destroyed this little one's future and I'm scared to tell that man that it's over with him. In my head at that moment there was a picture of a little Lorelai with one of those big hammers, like they use in that wack-a-mole game, smacking me over the head until I saw stars and finally came to my senses.

Right there I saw it, I could bite back my fear and say what needed to be said to give Caleb and all three of us the future that is just within our grasp, or stay quiet and risk losing anything of any consequence in my life.

So I gave in and I told Christopher what was on my mind. He and I are over. He is to be Rory's father and that's it. I'm done thinking of him as my back up plan when I don't even need a back up plan. I have you. I have Caleb and Rory. That's all I need. Next time he comes around, he doesn't have to wonder what I'm going to do, because the answer is that I won't be going to him.

You'd have been proud. I swear, little Lorelai in my head put on a cheerleader outfit with a giant L on the front and raised her pompoms to me.

But that's not all I said. You see, in the Jewish tradition (apparently Rory's odd friendship with Paris has taught me something), about a week after the new year, they celebrate a holiday called Yom Kippur. I'm not sure what you know about it but basically they fast for a day to atone for their sins of the past year and they ask forgiveness for all their sins and forgive those who have sinned against them. And I realize that while we don't actually have that tradition, but maybe we should. It was just over week after our New Year and I thought it was the perfect time to celebrate my own little Yom Kippur. No, I didn't fast, I haven't completely lost it. But I told Christopher that he didn't need to apologize, I wasn't even sure he thought he'd done anything wrong, but I told him it was unnecessary because I forgive him. And I asked him for forgiveness for using him like I did. I'll tell ya, the silence after I said that was the quietest I've ever heard him.

So now I tell you, Luke, I forgive you. I know I've said it before, but I think sometimes I hadn't really forgiven you in my heart. Sometimes I'll remember something and it will make me so bitter again and I don't want to do that anymore. Sometimes it's better just to move on. So I forgive you.

And I ask your forgiveness as well, though you've given it whole-heartedly already. And I ask the same of Caleb, who probably has no idea of what he's forgiving me for. But he just blew a raspberry and me so I know he forgives me.

Finally I have to forgive the person I never thought I could forgive: myself. I look at our child and I see what I could have done, and it hurts, literally, I feel it inside. And I need that to stop. I need to stop looking in the mirror and being disgusted with the person I see. So here goes… Lorelai Gilmore, I forgive you. I no longer look at you with little respect. You're a better person than you've been and that's all I'll see from now on.

You see, Luke, as much as I can say I've made all these changes in my life for you or for me or for Rory or for us, it's not the truth. This little guy. This little baby who's looking up at me now with such adoration, like I'm his whole world. He's the entire reason for my being. It's for him, more than anyone, that I live and breathe. And as I write that I remember that once my every breath was for Rory. And still, your face crosses my mind and I can't help but think I don't live for you, but that it's the other way around because without you, I am nothing.

In great remorse,

_Lorelai_


	33. February 10th, 2007

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know it seemed I disappeared, but I promise I'm not done with this fic yet. Life kind of took over leaving me little time to write or, you know, breathe. But here goes, I'm going to begin to skip a few weeks here and there. I want to take this to May when Lorelai comes home but I'm not going to write every single letter in between because I'm still too busy for all of that. I do plan on updating this every week as I used to, the fic will just end sooner, sometime in March I think.

* * *

_February 10th, 2007_

Hey babe,

So this is it, isn't it? One week from today I'll be back at home, back where I belong, back in the place I ran from so long ago. I think this has become the biggest lesson in cutting and running that I could have ever taught myself. I feel like Hodel in Fiddler on the Roof, leaving her family and such to go far from the home I love. Then again she left her parents and her siblings to go be with the man she loved in Siberia. So… I guess we're not the same after all, huh?

You know, if I had to think about it, out of Tzeitel, Hodel and Chava, I always thought Chava was my favorite. I think she made the biggest sacrifice for the man she loved out of all the three girls. Tzeitel gave up fortune to be with the boy she'd known from birth, but her parents were actually quite happy with the match. Hodel also married a man that her parents approved of, she just had to do it in Siberia. Meanwhile Chava had to choose between the family she loved and the man she loved. She could never have both and ultimately she found she couldn't live without Fyedka no matter how much it would hurt her parents. After their marriage she still tried with all her might to make things right with her parents, she left Anatevka when her parents were kicked out even though she didn't have to, she did all she could and ended up with just the slightest acceptance from her father. And that was enough for her.

I'd like to think I'd always do exactly what Chava did, I'd choose the man I love over everything else. And now I'm hearing my voice in my head. I choose you, I said. God, Luke, that night seems like forever ago and maybe it was but sometimes when I'm sleeping it comes to me in a nightmare and I wake and think that I'm back where I woke up that next morning. I wonder if that fear will ever go away. Maybe after I go home to my beautiful house and sleep in my room with the beautiful non-purple wallpaper, maybe then I'll finally realize it's all over.

There's so much I want to do when I get home. I'm already mentally packing my suitcases during my work breaks, trying to remember everything that I didn't bring to Paris with me that will be waiting for me when I get home. Oh I should buy Paul Anka a present! Do you think he'll remember me? It's so scary to think that my boy won't remember his mommy, but he's so young, we only had a year together, for all I know he's moved on, he's liked living with you. Maybe he likes hanging with the men better.

You know, I was just staring at our picture, the one of you and me and Caleb from just before you left for home and I was trying to remember the last time we were at home together. I feel like while I've tried to wipe away all the bad memories of our life together all I've succeeded in doing is destroying all the good times.

Hey, Babe, did you know you're beautiful? I'm staring at this picture and it's amazing how utterly handsome you are. It's been two months since I last laid eyes on you and I think, though I can say that you're pretty and that kind of thing, it's only now when I'm looking at ya that I really remember just how gorgeous you are.

I miss that, ya know? I miss you, your person, your presence. And I think I might explode the moment I walk off that plane and see you.

Oh wait, are you meeting my plane? I mean I guess I could have Rory do it, although I think she has class. But you have the diner and you're probably busy. I supposed I could call the Munsters, formerly known as my parents. Too scary, you think? Yeah, how about this: welcome to America, Caleb. Don't worry not every one in this country is this scary.

Or maybe you should just be a man about it and come welcome your son to his home country.

So I've been trying to plan out everything I'm going to do when I'm in town. Visit Yale. Drink coffee at the diner. Visit the Dragonfly. Visit… oh man can I say it? ... Hartford.

You know this list could be miles long and it would never list what I really want to do which is to make up for everything I haven't done in all the time I've been here. How can I possibly do that? How can I change the fact that I wasn't home for my daughter's birthday? Or yours? How can I ever make up for not being there?

Is coming home going to change the fact that I gave birth to our son in Paris? No one got to be there. Well, I mean you were. But I was there when Davey was born and Martha. For God's sake I was even there when Gigi was born (not one of the greatest days of my life, mind you).

Regret. It's like the story of my life, huh?

Do you ever regret that we waited so long? Not to have Caleb, I mean. We had him at a good time. Well, not a good time. I'm not really writing coherently right now. But I mean us. I mean you and me. Do you think we would have made it if the moment we met you'd have asked me out?

I'm not sure why I'm thinking about this except… I was packing, you know, to come home and I checked the tickets for the umpteenth time. I had put them in the top drawer of my nightstand where the ring used to be for a second I thought it was stolen because it was gone. You know that. And the reason you know that is that you have it.

And I'm not saying I regret saying no to your proposal either. I told you I wouldn't regret that. I just wonder if we'd have done it sooner, maybe if I wouldn't have postponed it until after things were right with Rory… ug, I really don't know.

This is ridiculous. I can't live like this. I can't sit around everyday wishing I'd done that or I'd said that or I'd, you know, whatever. Because I can't change things. That's how they are. That's how they'll always be. And all we can do is move forward and hope that each day we figure out less stuff that we're going to regret.

You know what else, I'll make this promise to you, I won't regret a moment of my time back in Stars Hollow. Not even if you force me to go spend time with my parents every day, not a second will I regret. Because, and I'm assuming here, which I hear isn't the greatest idea in the world, but I'm guessing that you'll be with me. Seriously Luke, after all this time, I'm not sure I can bear a moment without you.

I can't wait to go home and crawl into bed and have your arms around me. I ache for it. Sometime in our time together I learned to sleep like that, your snoring in my ear, your hand on my body, resting over my side or rubbing circles on my back. The first night or so it would keep me awake, I swear you thought I was just exhausted in the mornings because you kept me up at night, and you did but that's not why. I was just so suddenly aware of everything. Each time your fingers grazed my skin, it was electric shocks, not bad ones, wonderful ones. And eventually I learned to live with it, those sensations running through me, the sound of your breath in my ear, it was my own little rainforest CD to help me fall asleep.

Now it's like I can't sleep without it. Caleb's gotten pretty good at going to bed at a decent hour so afterwards I just turn on the TV in my room and sack out, closing my eyes and praying for sleep to come. Sometimes it's still three in the morning and I'm staring at some girl and guy on the screen speaking something that sounds like mumbo-jumbo to me. Though the language sounds absolutely beautiful, I can't help but MST3K it in my mind and picture how much Rory would love mocking it with me and how much you would love to groan at us for doing so.

By that time, Caleb will wake up for his middle of the night feeding and such. And we'll chat about you and how lucky you are that I'm playing single parent right now because I'd have kicked you out of bed over and over to take care of that middle of the night feeding. Which, of course, you can't do anyways. Duh, Lorelai. Eventually he'll curl up in my arms and that'll be about the time I realize I should put him back in his little crib.

Then I go back to bed and attempt an hour or so of sleep and it's time for work.

And still I go to work, having downed four or so cups of coffee, and I have no problem staying awake. But when I get home, exhausted as usual, the cycle starts again. I wish I could say that I want this to change, that I actually want to know what it's like to not feel like I'm moving through a fog, but I don't. Because I don't want to change my routine, I want it to always be the most natural thing to fall asleep in your arms.

Did I tell you about the little suit I bought for Caleb? I figured that we'd bring him to my parents at some point in my visit and I didn't think they'd appreciate him showing up to family dinner in a onesie, especially the one I stitched that makes him look like a little frog. It's adorable but not exactly my parents' idea of high fashion. Anyways so I bought him this little suit and I'm thinking of getting people to place bets on how long it takes him to spit up on it.

Come on! What's the use of children if you can't make a little money off of them?

But really he looks so adorable in a suit. I knew he would because you, my love, look so handsome in a suit. Well, you look amazing in anything. Or nothing even.

And he has this little smile. I swear he just started really smiling a week or so ago. But it's sooo… it's you Luke. I know, I sound like I'm making him out to be a little you, but know that I take credit for his eyes. And his love of coffee as well. (Kidding! I swear!) And when he gets excited about something, he looks like he wants to clap his hands like I do, but instead he just opens and shuts them and kicks his little bitty feet.

I can't wait until you see him. He's going to recognize you, I know he is. He's going to hear you or see you or feel your arms around him and he'll make that little sound he makes when he's content. Because he's got his daddy.

Oh Luke, I can't wait. I just can't wait. Even if this visit isn't as wonderful as I'm making it out to be, although I don't know why it wouldn't be, I'll still be happy. I've never wanted anything this much. I've never wanted to see anyone this much. I've never missed anything or anyone this much. My heart has never really ached this much.

Friday can't come fast enough.

In case you've forgotten, as I have until this moment when I glanced at the date at the top. Happy Valentine's Day, my darling. I don't need a special day to tell you this, but I'll do it anyways. I love you, Luke. Heart and soul.

Until I see you again,

_Lorelai_


	34. February 17th, 2007

_February 17th, 2007_

My wonderful wonderful man,

Do you think if I sang like the Everly Brothers you'd get how much I love you at this moment? Course that also makes me think of that scene from Ghost, which is starting to make me sad because Patrick Swayze dies right after that.

The thing is, Luke, I love this place. I love this bed. I love this house. I'm so full of love at this moment that I'm thinking of banning that word from my vocabulary in fear of overusing it. It's just that life couldn't get any more perfect. Stars Hollow. You. Everything. It's all so much. But not too much.

Or maybe it is. Maybe living too much is overwhelming.

I want to remember every second that happened since I stepped off that plane. I want to live it over and over again until I'm no longer living that lonesome life in France and it's just me and just you and just everyone and everything that I care deeply for. (See, I didn't use the abused word.)

So here I am, little ole me, carrying our son into that airport with the baby bag on my other arm. I swear I had to pack so much for him that I fear I may have left half the shoes I need back in Paris. Now I know you'd be okay if I forgot my underwear, but I have yet to get used to the idea of going commando, especially as a new mother. Aren't we new mothers supposed to be chaste or something? Yeah, someone should have warned us if that was the case after last night and then again this morning.

Anyways, before I get sidetracked into an entirely NC-17 discussion of our sex life, I'll return to what I was saying. So I'm walking off the plane past all the shops and security we have to get by before us crazy passengers can reach the real world and all those people who are waiting for us. All I'm expecting to see is you standing there, standing to the side, your hands in your back pockets, looking uncomfortable with the large crowd and just wanting to grab us and get out of there. And of course there's my plan to grab you and make an extremely public display of affection that might drive close to getting us arrested. But I guess I should have known you better than that because I don't just see you lost and alone in the corner. I saw the banner and my daughter and Sookie and Jackson and my parents and it's just so much.

Did I just freeze and stand there for five minutes? I really couldn't tell you. I was just so stunned. I might have talked forever about how much I miss everything but until the moment that everyone is there, I couldn't have really known just how great that ache was.

But there's nothing like that first hug from Rory. It was like she was seventeen again and just getting back from DC or six and just getting home from the first day of school. She always had that thing about running to me and throwing her arms around me like a little girl, it's something she's never outgrown and personally I hope she never does. I'm just surprised you managed to be quick enough to grab Caleb out of my arms before he was squished between us. Smart man.

And then Sookie, my darling Sookie, and Jackson. Best friends are something. Sookie and I talk all the time, we gossip and chat about whatever and you'd think a friendship like ours wouldn't change if we talk as much as we do, but we've missed out on some time together. We have to get back all those hours we didn't spend chatting in the kitchen of the Dragonfly and all the times we didn't harass Jackson about the new fruit he invented. And there's nothing like the love of a best friend, a person who accepts you for everything - even if you've screwed up entirely, she's got your back.

Then, while Sookie and Jackson went to coo over our beautiful baby boy, I turned to say hello to my parents. I never in my life would have imagined that I would have ever been happy to see them or that I would have missed them. But I guess, it's like I'm always looking for more pain or whatever. And somewhere underneath all that hurt is pride in my accomplishments, I'm not sure where it is, but I just know it's there somewhere. I know they care about me whether or not they ever say it. They put aside their busy jobs and lives to come greet me at the airport, to come meet their grandson for the first time, to come to welcome me back home where I belong. Maybe I have too much faith in them or too much hope that there's something there between us, something positive, something good, but if that's all the brings us together, I'll take it.

Then again, for all I know, the only reason they decided to show up was to meet Caleb. Ah, the image of my father awkwardly holding our son is imprinted in my memory in such a way that I wish I could make it into a real photograph to use for blackmail.

And finally I turned to you. My amazing, kind, decent, wonderful, I'm out of words to describe you, man. I turned and you were there and I think I just forgot myself for a moment, I forgot everything, the entire space-time continuum. I might have even forgotten to breathe, I can't remember. Because you were there and in seconds you were here, with your arms around me and my face buried in your chest and lifting up to kiss your lips until there was nothing more important in my life than the touch of your lips against mine. I think we actually came pretty close to that indecent display of affection I'd been planning earlier without even intending it. I just wanted to hold you forever, be in your arms forever, let that moment of extreme togetherness go on forever. God I missed you.

Everyone just stood back, did whatever they wanted to do, spent time getting to know our son, giving us our time together. I told myself I wasn't going to cry, but you were so beautiful and the look in your eyes was so adoring, everything about you was just so much that I couldn't hold it together. Right now I can close my eyes and still be back there in that moment, your arms wrapped around me, your cheek against my forehead, your skin against my lips, your aroma of burgers and outdoors and just Luke-ness surrounding me, letting me intoxicate myself with the essence of you again. I'm addicted to you, my darling, and I'm never going to attend a meeting to end that addiction.

Eventually we got ourselves together and wiped away my tears. Then the whole troupe marched on to baggage claim and we were on our way hope with only a quick stop at Richard and Emily's for you and me and Rory and Caleb before we drove back to Stars Hollow. It was a little surprising, I have to say, that they let us go after only an hour, especially when Logan stopped in to join all of us. I think they just wanted a small time to get to know their grandson although I've never seen a woman so awkwardly relate to a child as my mother attempting to converse with our wordless son. Guess the whole moment was just a reminder of why all my early childhood memories are of the nanny rather than my parents.

Soon we were on our way, which was good because I'm not sure I could have resisted those martinis any longer. People neglect to warn you that when you get pregnant you're really going to be off of alcohol for two years, one during pregnancy and one during breast feeding. I feel like a lush sometimes with how much I crave just one small martini or a miniature glass of wine. I mean I know that not all mothers abstain, most don't I'd guess, but I just need to do this right. If I go by the book and do everything right then I'm not going to screw up, even if it means a martini-less life for yours truly.

I remember that drive because after Caleb fell asleep in his car seat, I was so distracted by you that I didn't even register where we were going until we'd passed the street that lead to the Crap Shack. And you never even commented, you just drove as if you brought us home everyday. You paused at a stop sign and I think it was that sudden movement in the end that forced my eyes off of you. I couldn't help it, I was just so amazed that we were finally here, we were finally home, we were finally doing this.

Finally I looked up and realized where we were and tried to convince you that you'd passed the street. You just gave me that look that told me you knew what you were doing, but how was I supposed to believe you? In my mind I still lived at the Crap Shack.

And then we pulled up the driveway of this house. I don't even know how to describe it but I think I understood why were there before you said anything, I think that's why I finally shut up, which must have amazed you more than anything else. Without a word you took Caleb in your arms and with one hand on my back, led me into this house. I couldn't believe my eyes. There was a play ground in the back for Caleb and a front porch swing for us. There was a large yard for Caleb and his friends when he gets old as well as a stable and land for horses for me. A little trail that led down to the creek so you could take Caleb on your ludicrous nature hikes. And the house. The gorgeous blue house with its white fence in front.

We went inside and I shouldn't have been surprised to see half the town in the house, a large banner welcoming both of us to the house over the fireplace and all sorts of tasty edibles set around the place. Rory just came up and took Caleb from you as if you'd planned the whole thing so you could tour me around the place. The large spacious kitchen (all yours, my friend), the sewing room (all mine), the dining room and living room. Upstairs there were rooms for Rory, April and Caleb, although you suggested that one could be converted into a room for both girls and I'm going to ignore what you were hinting at by that one. Finally you led me into the master bedroom and I swear the biggest bedroom I've ever had. So much closet space! (Yup, that really was the most exciting part.)

You were so cute. "Lorelai, this is ours." Duh, Luke. And I thought you were giving me a tour of someone else's house. But you were right, my love, I need to move on from the Crap Shack. The house in Hartford is from a life I'd rather forget. The Crap Shack was for my life with Rory. Both of those lives are over now, it's time to move on with you and our darling little boy.

There were blue prints covering our bed and it wasn't until that moment that I realized you'd designed the house with some help from Tom. I can't believe you did this. I can't believe Rory was able to keep this a secret. And I really can't believe you convinced Sookie to slough off the interest on my checks since the Dragonfly has been doing so well lately and hand it over to you because you knew I'd want to be an equal partner in the building of this house. This is some place you built for us to grow old in. Some place, indeed.

I think I scared you then when I just couldn't hold myself up any longer and fell to sit on the bed. It was just so much, all so much. Being back. Everyone coming to welcome me. Caleb. The party downstairs. And you. Most of all, you. And you just sat next to me wondering over and over if I was okay but I just couldn't explain, I was just so overcome. It was all too wonderful and maybe a little too perfect. My life isn't supposed to be like that. But with you, it always seems to be that way.

So I just kissed you. I closed my eyes and just let myself feel: your lips, your hand on my thigh, your eyelashes against my cheek, the rapid beat of my heart and the tingles spreading over my skin. And if I could have, I would have shown you how much I appreciate you and everything you've done right then and there

But instead I went down to the party and it was just the best time. Predictably wonderful. And after everyone had left, we put Caleb to bed and had our own little celebration. Okay, not so little. I don't know how to describe it though, Luke.

Remember back when you were in Paris just before Caleb was born and I was having one of my ultra-horny nights and I was getting so frustrated because we couldn't seem to get it together so that I wasn't on my back and I wasn't uncomfortable? I'm laughing now, but I could have killed you for picking me up (lord knows how on earth you managed that one unless you have some superhuman strength I don't know about) and throwing me in the shower under the cold water. "I'll come back when you've cooled off!" you shouted at me. You crazy crazy man. I don't think I've ever gotten to you that much but your face was so red that after I cooled off I couldn't help but harass you about it. Until finally we decided that we might have to wait until after Caleb was born to actually shag. (I'm still trying not to use the obnoxious word.)

But last night, it was like our first time all over again. Maybe more. You know I thought maybe it would be awkward like that first time, or we'd fumble around but it all just came back so easily. I mean you were just there and all I wanted to do was show you how much I (hmmm… what word to use?), I wanted to show the extreme depth of my feelings for you. Does the Mariana Trench mean anything to you? All I wanted to hear was my name on your lips and know that life could never get better than this.

And afterwards I laid there in your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin against mine, your fingers circling on my back, your forehead pressed against mine. You were snoring softly. And I finally fell asleep. It was the best sleep I've had in a long time.

This morning I woke up refreshed, energized. And I have you to thank. I have Caleb to thank. I have this town and my daughter to thank. But I have myself to thank as well, for allowing myself to feel this, to not regret what I'd missed but revel in all I have.

We're going to make it, my love. I've said it before but I now everything's so clear. Now I have a place to see it. I remember what everything's like, you and your touch and your love. (I feel like I can use that word now since I haven't used it the whole letter.) It's all I've ever wanted. It's more than I ever deserved.

All my love,

_Lorelai_


	35. February 24th, 2007

February 24th, 2007

My betrothed,

I bet you knew I'd title you that. I can't help it the words linger on my lips like the sugary taste a jolly rancher leaves in your mouth hours after it's dissolved. Husband. Spouse. Mmmm… tasty. I love them. I love all those words.

I spent the week in, apparently, some kind of naïve dream world, imagining that I was just showing up out of nowhere and surprising everyone. When you'd sent me the tickets for Christmas, I didn't imagine you'd told anyone else about it. Plus I barely planned each day in advance. But somehow everyone seemed to predict my every move.

When I went to spend the day at the Dragonfly last Monday, Sookie had already made her best cup of coffee for me as well as a tray of scones and danishes. She'd convinced our longest employed maid to show me around, as if I'd never worked there a day in my life. Sometimes, I wonder if I had.

It reminded me of my first day at the Independence Inn. I'd lived there for a few days, Mia had given me some time to settle both Rory and I into the potting shed in the back, get my uniform together and such, before I started work. She'd even given me a tour of the place and showed me how everything worked. But on my first day, her longest employed maid took me on a tour and suddenly everything felt magical and new, like all along it had been a flower waiting to bloom and right before my eyes it finally opened up.

On Monday the Dragonfly seemed like a place I had never been in. You'd think after being the one to design and decorate the place that I'd know every nook and cranny. But there was just so much I noticed as I walked around. I can't even pinpoint anything right now but this place is just so aesthetically pleasing. It seems homey, you know? Like you could just curl up in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa and the one you love and be content and happy forever.

Do you think I planned that? I mean the first time you walked into my inn, did you wonder why I'd chosen to decorate it in the way I had? Or were you too busy hoping that you'd get me outside and kiss me? You slut.

I think subconsciously, since the Independence Inn had been my first home, I wanted the Dragonfly to be my new home so I decorated it as such. Only I find now, that as homey as it is, I'd never want to stay there, as long as I'm in Stars Hollow, I'll never want to spend the night anywhere but in our new home, in our bed, with you beside me.

Tuesday I decided to spend the day with Rory out in Yale. It's been quite awhile since I've seen the place but, unlike my inn, Yale doesn't change too much in a year. I'd probably hazard a guess that it hasn't changed too much in a hundred years, but I regress… Rory's returned to the scary apartment which would actually be a little scarier if Paris weren't there. Somehow I believe that Paris could protect my child in the face of danger. I'm not sure why I've deduced that, but there you go.

Really I just wanted some time with my girl, just to really see Rory Gilmore for what she is and I realized that I haven't really been listening to her lately. She's graduating in a couple months and, though she went on about her classes and her work at the paper, there really wasn't more to it then that. She mentioned a bit about her new friends Lucy and um… someone else. I can't keep them straight. For the life of me, I can't imagine that these are Lane-type lifelong friends, but who am I to say? Who could have imagined that we'd ever be friends after I called you Duke for two years straight? And now look at us, I'd say we're a bit more than friends. (Just a bit, she says with wink.) Rory talked a bit about Logan and how he's moved to New York, which I already knew but who doesn't mind hearing about that darling boy once again. (Sarcasm, my friend, is a wonderful thing.)

She just seemed sorta stuck. I'm not sure how to say it. During her senior year of high school, the first thing she did was apply to colleges. Yes, then she moved on to breaking up with Dean, but what I'm saying is that her future was at the forefront of her plans for the year. And now? It's months into her senior year and if I mention next year to her she gets this look on her face that shatters my heart into little pieces.

What happened to my little girl and her pro/con lists? She's fumbling around and I fear it's my fault because I always had her back before and now, with me in Paris and trying to raise another kid, it might seem like I don't have time for her. It's like she's not Rory Gilmore anymore. She's this person in my daughter's body, floating through life and hoping it will drift her somewhere. And I can't let that happen. I did that once and I ended up with her. She's got so much potential and I'm just not sure how to make that clear to her except to show her how far I can go with what I have.

And what do I have, you may ask? Well other than being a new mother and a newly wedded woman, I have the Dragonfly and the inn in Paris which are both doing beautiful. I've got street cred coming out of my ears, man. And if you don't believe me, I think I might have heard my father complimenting me at one point Wednesday night.

Ah, Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday. I'm searching for words if you didn't know, thus I'm repeating 'Wednesday' over and over and over.

All I did was pull into the driveway after a day of shopping with Sookie, showing Caleb and Martha all that they're missing in their continued inability to talk. Well, Caleb more so than Martha, she's at least got the hang of a few random words. She's completely unlike Davey who was pretty chattery by that age. Guess children aren't all the same. I hope that means that Caleb's going to be dumb like the rest of us mortals.

I pulled into the driveway and as I got out and reached in to get Caleb, something caught my eyes. Not my daughter standing on the lawn waving her arms around. Not your absence from the lawn after I'd already told you what time I'd be hope. But the complete stillness of the place, as if it were filled with people who knew what was going on while I was left feeling stupider than I have after a conversation with Rory and April. For a moment I worried that something had happened to you and I almost tossed Caleb back in the car and drive off to the diner or the hospital or the police station or God knows where.

Rory thankfully came running over to take Caleb from me and told me that you were waiting for me in our room. This is where my mind completely broke down, or least my imagination, because with the kids at home, I could hardly imagine why you were waiting in the bedroom.

So I ran up the stairs and there you were, all sexy in your tux. You know I think I considered for a moment that since we'd been apart for so long, you didn't really fear having sex with the kids at home. Hun, I may be crazy, but I'm not that crazy. (Most of the time…)

You think you know me so well, don't you? You do. I assure you. I really think you know me better than I do. Things weren't going to be as they were before. There was nothing to fear. Because you were there. When it seemed no one was there, you were there. And you turned to me and begged me to let you promise to be there forever. How could I say no to that? How could I? To think that all you needed out of life was me and us and our love, I'm just in awe. I don't even feel the least bit worthy.

You wanted this so much that you planned everything. Though I could argue that it wouldn't really be my wedding because I didn't have the least bit of say in it, I would be wrong, wouldn't I? You knew my plans for the June 3rd. You remembered, I don't know how. You got that caterer I wanted and, apparently, sent out in invitations I ordered, although I don't recall seeing one. And then you put a bit of yourself into it, as I realized when you led me to the window over looking our backyard. In front of me were the rows and rows of chairs filled with our family and friends, at one end stood our daughters, one holding our son, and Sookie and Jackson and the other was our chuppah, or my chuppah, the one you made me. I was just… it was breathtaking Luke.

I'm not really sure what it was in my letter that convinced you that I really didn't want to wait six months. Maybe it was how hard I held you when I saw you in the airport. If I could have, I would have never let go. But you sent out the invites before that, didn't you? You just know me that well.

There was nothing like signing that marriage license and filling out the paperwork so that I can formally become Lorelai Danes. You know, I write that and I just smiled to myself. Lorelai Danes. It sounds right, doesn't it? Better than Lorelai Schnicklefritz, I guess. You're a part of me now, as much as I'm a part of you. You're not getting away from me, no siree. You're mine. I own you and half your life's blood. Now I'm getting a little carried away with my power.

And you know, as much as I cried on June 3rd or wished for things that never happened, I wouldn't have traded Wednesday night in for anything. There was a light covering of snow on the ground and flakes in the sky, and though it was cool, I somehow managed to wear that sleeveless dress my mother had brought over. It was just past dusk and the sun had fully descended so you had put up lights in the backyard, little white Christmas lights over the chuppah. It was like a winter wonderland. Just the way my real wedding was supposed to be. How I ever thought I could get married in the summer is beyond me. It's freakishly hot in Stars Hollow in the summer.

The look on your face when I agreed to wear a dress my mother brought over probably takes the cake though. I should tell you that I tried on the dress once before, or at least held it up against myself. Back when my mother was trying on dresses for that wedding shindig she and my father threw themselves a couple years ago, I couldn't help but check it out. I think I even had a little picture in my mind that night: me in that dress, you in a tux and a couple 'I do's. And on Wednesday, it looked just as stunning, maybe more so, definitely more so. What do you think? I think I caught you staring once or twice or… the entire time until we drove to that little inn on the coast where you finally took it off of me.

Though I think I could bundle up completely in every piece of clothing I've ever owned and you would still be able to see all of me, down the darkest reaches of my soul. You live inside of me. Maybe you've been a part of me all my life and it took me until 10 years ago to actually meet you and until Wednesday to finally legally bind myself to you.

I'm so glad you did this. I'm glad you made this decision, put your foot down and set up this wedding and I hope you never worried for a moment that I might say no. I would do anything for you, Luke. My greatest wish is that I never let you down, never again. You, my love, are my life and to hurt you would also hurt myself and I'm just not sure I could survive any more pain.

As I write this, I keep glancing down at these rings on my finger. They're like a little red string tied around my finger to remember that it's you I'm tied to, that it's you I've promised for ever to, that it's you that I will spend my life with. And I can't help but think that once I move back home, officially and for all eternity, I will finally be happy, truly and unbelievably happy. And I'll admit, only to you of course, I never ever thought I would ever consider myself a completely content woman. But today, because of you, I am.

Your loving wife,

Lorelai Danes


	36. March 3rd, 2007

_March 3rd, 2007_

My old man,

I love coming up with all things to call you now that we're married. Could be the best part of being married. Wouldn't you agree?

On the other hand, coming back here as a newly married woman and having to explain to people that no, my name is not Lorelai Gilmore, has caused a bit of confusion. At least Graciela and Phillipe remember you, they know that you're more than a figment of my imagination, so it's not a problem for them. I think the biggest problem was with the border patrol or whatever you call the people you have to show your passport to. See my brand spanking new driver's license has my name as Lorelai Danes and my passport has it as Lorelai Gilmore, all I can say is that at least I managed a new picture on that license cause man I look gorgeous in the new pic. The old one looked like a photo they take when you're arrested or something.

That's beside the point, the thing is that I need to have a new passport before I try to return to the US again because apparently it's easier to go from the US to France with non-matching licenses and passports as long as I had a copy of our marriage license with me, than it is to go from France to the US. Makes me feel like Paris wants me more. Guess you and Uncle Sam are going to have to fight for me.

So sometime in the next few weeks I'm going to have to make it over to the embassy to try to work things out with them. Last time I was over there I was trying to figure out how to do the whole passport thing with Caleb and I think I drove them so crazy that they'll pretty much agree to any of my requests. You want a share of the Statue of Liberty? I might be able to get that for you.

Being back here in Paris and knowing what it was like to be married to you for a few days, I mean really married because I know that I'm still married to you but I don't feel married, it's just tough. I feel like I should be spending every night in my married bed with my lawfully wedded husband and instead I'm here tossing and turning in this wide spacious bed, trying to pretend that you are here beside me. Somehow it's like trying to make memories into blankets that I can wrap around me on these cold nights. It doesn't really work but it's as close as I can get to your actual person beside me.

Now, I need to stop complaining because it is actually nice to be back. Phillipe tried to plan this wedding while I was gone that did not go off as well as planned. Apparently he didn't realize the certain members of the groom's family weren't especially fond of the bride's, you get the picture. Of course, as it turns out, some of the groom's family was very fond of the bride's as Anna, one of the maids, found the groom's brother and the bride's sister in the broom closet having a small bit of relations. Oh Luke, forgive me but I love my stupid jokes.

It's nice to feel needed at work. Like I told you, the inn is doing much better than before but I still there there's some room for improvement. Plus, Mike's going to bring by some applicants for my position later this month so that he can hire the person and I can have time to train them before I head back home. Makes me a little sad to realize that this chapter of my life is going to be over in a few months time but I suppose there are better things to come.

So I noticed I left my list of things I wanted to do when I was home on my desk here, but I guess it doesn't really matter does it? I didn't get half of the stuff done that I wanted. Nothing turned out like I thought and, hey, I'm not complaining.

That inn we stayed in on the coast, just spending the time together as newlyweds, just us and the ocean. I'm pretty nostalgic today, I think. But honestly, we've been to Paris together and Martha's Vineyard, but the idea of just a small inn, just a small place where we could spend a few days just with each other, just be the newly married us, God Luke, life's never going to get any better than that. To have you always with me, looking into my eyes and you don't have to say anything for me to know how much you're feeling right at the moment. To lay on the beach or on the porch, just letting the world rush by around us while to us all that matters is each other. There are no words. Seriously, I'm sitting here trying to come up with what exactly was coursing through me and I'm just so overcome, so full of everything, of you, of that deep and honest emotion we call love.

I am a part of all that I have met  
Tho much is taken, much abides  
That which we are, we are --  
One equal temper of heroic hearts  
Strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

Yup, I'm so crazy in love that I'm quoting poetry to you. Look what you've turned me into. This sappy woman, I belong in one of those Meg Ryan movies I swear. It's Tennyson in case you were wondering. Really the reason I've always remembered this poem might have something to do with Ted Kennedy, I'm not exactly sure, but that's what I figure. I think I was twelve when he made that speech at the convention but something about this poem got to me and I wrote it down. Seriously, there are things I do that I just can't explain.

I can't help but thing that this really speaks to us at the moment. We are a part of each other Luke. Miles and miles away from each other, an ocean between us, and you're still with me, I'm still with you. It's more than the rings on our fingers and a signed piece of paper that bind us together. We are one heart. One mind. One soul. Anything that seeks to tear us apart, we're strong than all of it, we'll take it down, we won't stop until we're as physically together as we are in heart and mind.

God I can't stop crying. What is wrong with me? It almost reminds me of when I was in my early pregnancy with Caleb. The littlest things could get to me and make me bawl. Thankfully, no morning sickness right now, so I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear.

Those were the days, weren't they? I was so scared all the time. I was frightened that I'd really done it this time, I'd really lost you and there was no turning back. Every letter I'd open with a huge gratitude to my unborn son that at least he got you to keep writing to me. We went through so much, you went through so much that I don't even know about I'm sure. It was hard and it was tough but we made it and it doesn't at all seem easy when I look back.

But anything just to have that small moment from last Sunday before Caleb and I got on the plane to go home. You know I think that something my mother never understood is that it's the simple things in life that can bring the most happiness. The first robin in spring. The first snowfall in winter. The laughter of a small child. Big parties are fun, sure, but they can't for a moment compare to the little things.

Who would think that waking up early Sunday morning would be my greatest memory from my trip home? I got married for Pete's sakes, and don't get me wrong, that was wonderful, our wedding, everything you planned, the house and all of it was great. But Sunday morning was special. And I'm not specifically talking about the first time I woke up that morning, although what's better than some good lovin from your husband? Not much from my point of view.

What I meant by early Sunday morning, was waking up just before noon to the sounds of bacon frying and pancakes griddling. I got to go downstairs in my comfy comfy clothes and my fabulous rings on my finger and kiss my husband and eat breakfast with my daughter and son and stepdaughter. Of course, Caleb didn't really eat with us, but he was there just the same. Then I got to lounge around in my absolutely fabulous living room created and built by my husband and hang with my girls and watch my husband entertain our son.

You know I wonder if my mother ever sat there and marveled, as I have, at her husband and her child. He's three months old, fourteen weeks to be more exact, and he's already such a character. He's so much of you and so much of me already. When he smiles, I just sit there in amazement and wish I could just reach for him and hold him close forever. But then I watch him with you and it's like I've never seen anything quite like it before. When he looks up at you it's like he trusts you with everything, his life and his future. And when you play with him or hold him or sing to him, I can see that he fills your world.

My mother used to say I was settling – that by being with you I was settling for less than what I wanted or deserved. I just don't get it. I don't know how there could be anything more than what I have. This love I have for you, it's so powerful, it's in each breath I take, each beat of my heart, and when I think of you, which is so constant that it's a wonder I get anything done, I'm so overcome by this feeling that all I can do is close my eyes and let it take me over. How can she think I could want anything more that that? How can she think that there's anyone who's better for me than you? You, the one person who truly gets me, who understands my madness even when I don't. And how can she say I'm settling when lying here next to me is this perfect little boy, to whom I'm his entire world until we finally return home to you. How can there be anything else?

How can she look at me and not see you and Caleb? That's what I see. When I look at you, I can see the world and it's all I need. All I'll ever need.

Thank you, my love, for this present. Thank you for bringing me home and giving me a home to come to and not just a place that used to seem like home. Thank you for making me your wife and promising me forever, for knowing that neither of are settling, that we're getting more than we could have ever hoped for. Thank you for your love, that sustains me through every moment of my life.

Forever yours,

_Lorelai_


	37. April 14th, 2007

_April 14th, 2007_

Dear Luke,

Isn't it wonderful? Spring, I mean. It's lovely. It's like everything in the world seems to wake up and come out of whatever deep depression it's landed itself in. There are these flowers I noticed as I took Caleb out on a walk yesterday. He was cooing away in his stroller, like a lovely little melody so I didn't have to look like one of thse actual exercising women who wear walkmen or walk around with their MP3 players on their arm. Listening to him reminds me of who I am sometimes. I'm his mother. I'm your wife. I'm me and that's all I ever wanted.

I was telling you about these flowers. Do you remember when Rory and I used to come for Thanksgiving and we'd bring you flowers? You'd always crab and we'd argue about how you don't like flowers but I always bring you them. I loved that little tradition. I always brought you the same kind of flowers I'd picked out for Mrs. Kim and Sookie, but the truth is that when I was deciding which flowers would be best, I wasn't thinking of them. I was imagining that one little moment just after you took your first bite of turkey or green beans or shoved the marshmallows off your sweet potatotes when you'd glance over at the counter and smile only slightly. Did you ever know that I watched for that? Now you can finally admit it, you liked the flowers. Maybe it wasn't them per say that you liked, maybe it was more that I gave you flowers. That thought would burn inside of me when I imagined that look on your face back in Doose's.

You'd think I'd have realized my feelings for you all the way back then. You'd think I'd have realized that I was more excited to give you the flowers than to eat that delectable pumpkin pie you always made. I think I'm an unobservant fool.

And again I back track back to those flowers Caleb and I saw on our walk. Yes, I can say for sure that he saw them because your darling boy proceeded to try to rip them out of the ground. It was cute and I didn't want to freak but I feared getting yelled at in a language I couldn't possibly understand. And it wouldn't be the first time, I mean, Rory told you about that French fry/freedom fry incident. And Graciela, I swear she's a godsend, always jumping in to help when a guest at the inn starts complaining and the words 'parle vue anglais' slip out of my head. She really is nothing like Michel. I'm wondering if he'd be interested in a foreign exchange program for receptionists. But then, technically, he'd be returing home, so I'd guess not.

You know, when I think about moving home, I realize that there are things, places, people that I'm going to miss. I'd never change my mind. I could never be happier than in that blue house with you and Caleb. But there will be a trace of nostalgia running through me.

I mean, I don't want you thinking that this time in Paris was all that bad. I'm in Paris for Pete's sake! How could that be bad?

Seriously, I thought I was getting better at the tangentiality thing. Then again… maybe not. These flowers, though they were something. They…. I should look them up and see if it's possible that Babette could come over and plant them in our garden. I mean, you know as well as I that my favorite flower is the white lily. But I'm now considering changing that. Maybe the red whatchamaycalits are my favorites. And I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you about flowers. I'm wondering that as well.

But I got a call from April the other day. Did she tell you that? I guess she's thrilled that you're going to New Mexico to see her for her birthday instead of coming here to celebrate mine. She wanted to thank me for agreeing to that. You didn't tell her I suggested it?

If you're going to be so frustrating, will you at least warn me so that I've already got an answer together when your almost fourteen year old daughter calls?

How did she get my number anyways? It's not that I mind but she's been calling every once in awhile since you and I became woman and husband. I know I told you about it. And I'm just as sure that Anna has no idea. And yet that part of me that wants to tell Anna because a mother should know everything about her daughter is completely overshadowed by the part of me that is just so excited to get to know your daughter.

Did you ever really just observe April? Did you ever reflect back on Rory and compare her to April and wonder if the combination of them is going to be Caleb's future?

There's so much about our son that excites me. I can't wait for his first word. His first step. The first time he realizes he should be using the word 'no'. The first time he falls asleep in his big boy bed. So much. So many firsts. And then, yet, I want him to stay little forever. I just want him to be this little boy I can wrap in my arms and hold close to me, feeling his warm pink skin against mine. I think I can feel how much he loves me. You'd think I'd be used to it, I watched my daughter grow up. But I think I couldn't wait for Rory to grow up. I couldn't wait to see the person she was going to be.

This is besides the fact that her growing up was actually my growing up.

Anyways, I do think it's a good decision we made, to have you go spend April's birthday with her. A fourteenth birthday is so much more important than a thirty-ninth. (And when I say thirty-nine, I mean thirty-one of course.) Although I will miss my five hours of housework as my present. I have to admit, you in that t-shirt and tool belt – totally the best part of the five hours.

Hold on… I think I just drooled on your letter.

You know, people say you're supposed to be scared about turning forty. How do I tell them that I'm more excited about my fortieth birthday than my thirty-ninth? For my fortieth, I'll be able to celebrate back at home with you and Caleb or even if not at home, then in New Mexico with April as well. I don't really care.

Can you believe it? Can you believe all we have? Just more and more every day I realize how much we have. When I come home in May, everything's just going to be so perfect. You. Me. Caleb. The girls. Our house. I'm not sure I ever thought I could be this happy. I grew up in a world where a new pair of pearls was the most exciting thing on earth and I just remember thinking it was the little things that I was going to have to look forwards to throughout my life. The few smiles I received from my father. The few times my mother didn't berate me for one thing or another. The times when I hid away in my room to just finally have the ability to be myself.

I never thought I would ever be loved like you love me. I never thought that someone would be able to look at me and just get me, just appreciate every little thing about me, even my little annoyances. You know, as Rory grew up, I dated a bit but I didn't really care about the guys, I really would have rather just stayed home with Rory and chilled because I thought that the only person who would ever love me fully and completely was her. Those guys were nothing in comparison to my little girl. But then you came along and changed all that.

I'm not sure what you could give me for my birthday that could ever compare to everything you've given me in the past year. Our son. Our house. Your eternal devotion. I'm not sure what I could possibly wish on when I blow out the candles on my cake that could ever make me happier than I will be the first moment I step off that plane to finally return home to never leave again and throw myself into your arms.

I've been think about that lately – the whole leaving here kinda thing. Mike introduced me to Gloria the other day, the woman he hired to take my spot when I leave in just a little over a month. She's nice, very intrigued by the changes I made to get our numbers up, but I was standing at the reception desk a little later watching her go over something with Phillipe and it just hit me, this is coming to an end.

And to me, sometimes, it's like it's all just beginning.

And when it was really just beginning I was so lost that I don't know how I got my act together enough to turn this inn around the way I have. Right now thinking back on that time, that person I was then, I'm still angry. I've forgiven so much, I've learned to understand why I did what I did that night and learned to live with fact that though I can't change it, at least I've learned from it. Maybe we both did.

But you know what I'm still mad about? I left.

I thought the days of cut-and-run Lorelai were over. I thought once we got together I wasn't going to just end things and freak out when I felt my hand was too close to the flame. And I didn't. Not at all. But the moment things got rough, instead of hanging around and trying to deal with things, I ran. I packed my bags and came all the way across the ocean to keep from sorting things out.

That was stupid. Really stupid.

When I finally got here, starting working and set up my apartment and realized just how far away I really was, I realized how much I already missed you and my life and just everything. I remember that day I'd finished unpacking in that old apartment Mike had set me up in before I realized I was pregnant with Caleb, I set up a few pictures, I put the ring box in the drawer of the nightstand and I glanced around and the place just felt so empty. I'm not sure how. I'm not sure why. But everything felt lifeless. I think that's when everything hit me, that I'd walked away, that that night had actually happened, that I'd come all the way over here.

I remember sitting on the floor next to my bed, my knees bunched up to my chest and just sobbing. I remember the phone was next to me and every time I looked at it the only person I could think of to call was you and I couldn't do that anymore. It was so frustrating that you were the one person I had always turned to when it all fell apart and that time it was because it all fell apart that I couldn't go to you.

And there I was, in the middle of Paris, an ocean away from home and anything I had ever known in my entire life and it was all because I ran like a scare little girl.

Well I'm not running anymore. The only place I'll ever run at this moment is back home, back to that beautiful blue house with my beautiful husband and my beautiful son.

You know what's nice, somehow I feel that this year when I blow out my candles, I can be pretty positive I'll get exactly what I wish for. And actually, I've already gotten what I wished for last year. Funny how things work out.

From your 29 year old wife,

_Lorelai_


	38. May 12th, 2007

Just so you know, there are only two letter to go after this. I really do appreciate all the support I've recieved over the months!

* * *

_May 12th, 2007_

My dearest,

Was I at home yesterday? Or this morning? I feel like I can barely remember it that time flew by so quickly. Seriously I feel like I went from the airport to Rory's graduation to our bed back to the airport in less than 24 hours. It was something like that, I'm sure of it.

I would say it wasn't worth it to go home just for that short time, that it felt like a tease, but I'd be lying. We both know why I couldn't stay for long, there's so much to do before I really come home next week and, in truth, I shouldn't have been leaving right now anyways. But Rory's worth it. The whole thing, it was so worth it.

Every minute of my little girl's life made everything that I went through to have to her and to raise her completely worth it.

As a sixteen year old, holding your newborn in her arms, you wonder what life is going to bring you, the future challenges you're going to have to overcome. I knew I'd just faced a big one – what with giving birth and all at that age. And it was then that I found myself in that big house knowing that the biggest challenge would be for me to raise this child, to teach my little girl how to become a bright and successful woman, and for me to get through one day at a time without screwing up.

And, well, I never managed that last one.

They say you learn more from your mistakes than your successes but I think I've made the same mistake many times, maybe I'm just slower than most. But I was just a child, I'll admit that freely. I know I claimed, at least to Mia, to be all grown up, to be an adult raising my little girl, but it doesn't just happened. The stick turned pink. Rory was born. I left Hartford. That all forced me to think like an adult, but I wasn't grown up, not really. You can't grow up if you haven't had the chance to think like a child and grow from that, to go from thinking that every problem can be solved with an apology to the idea that some problems can never be solved.

I had only reached the level of teen maturity when I first met you. I still lived for rebellion and just making everything in life out to be some kind of game or party. As a teen I thought that nothing was too serious, nothing would really come as a consequence of anything I did. Independence was the name of the game and if I got to close to losing that, I ran. Max certainly learned that.

Somehow all during that, Rory became an adult. She went through Chilton and Yale, she left Yale and broke up with Logan, she went back to Yale, became editor of the Yale Daily News. My little girl, she went so far, she did so much. She still is a bit lost, she's not completely set on what she's going to do now, but she's beautiful and she's smart and she's perfect and now she's a Yale graduate.

Yes, that's right, my daughter graduated from Yale yesterday. Somehow on that long road paved with mistakes, I must have done something right. I screwed up a lot, most than I can say, but I must have done something right.

And that's not to say that I haven't grown up after all, but I don't think my transformation into an adult had anything to with Rory. I think part of it was me, my realization that without her my life must still go on, that after she left and went to Yale, I still have a life to live. I think, with her around, I could feel like life still could be a party every day. Yes, I had to pay taxes and take responsibility for things in my life, but I never let it get too serious.

But I think the moment we packed her and sent her off and my life became my life without her, I had to grow up. I couldn't depend on her to be adult in the relationship anymore

And then I found you and, I don't know, I'm not sure I would have ever become the person I am today if you hadn't kissed me that night at the Dragonfly. You made me want more. You made me want to give up my independence. You made me want to love. Makes me wonder if Wendy had explained to Peter Pan that a kiss is more than a thimble, if he might have given up Never Never Land forever.

Truly I think you can't really be an adult until you're ready for all of that: love, comfort, safety and finding it all in one person. I'm not saying that you have to do it, but you have to be willing. You have to be willing to break down that barrier you keep around yourself and let someone in, even if it's just one person. You have to be able to say you can't do it yourself, to say that your life wouldn't be your life without that person.

For 22 years, I was Rory's mother, and technically I still am, but she doesn't need me to be that anymore. All I want to be is your wife, your heart, the love of your life, forever.

Did you ever see Miss Saigon? Kind of a strange tangent, I know, but go with it for a moment. I haven't actually seen that musical for years so I know we didn't see it together but I seem to recall Nicole taking you to see a few shows in New York when you guys were together so I was just wondering. It's such a heartbreakingly beautiful musical. I know I cried when I saw it, off-Broadway of course. Rory was supposed to go see Annie with her class in school but that was around the time she came down with chicken pox, I know you remember that week, and she didn't end up going. They were supposed to write a paper for music class on their appreciation for musicals so I took Rory to see the Litchfield Community Theater production of Miss Saigon. Not quite the same as having Lea Solanga play the lead, but she was probably preparing to voice Mulan then anyways.

Now it's true that in the end she gives up her life so that her boy can have a better life in America with his father, but it's really a love story. You might say, well Kim and Chris are only really together in about 20 minutes of the entire musical and they never see each other again, how does that make for a love story? (Well you wouldn't say that but someone might.) It's just that in the face of everything, the world seemingly coming apart at the seams, it's each other that Kim and Chris turn to. (Yes, the male lead does have that unfortunate first name, but we'll just stick a pin in that so that I can make my point.) Kim and Chris turned to each other in some of the worst days of the Vietnam War and pledged their love for each other. She vowed that he was her sun and moon and that's what love is. Even though they never really made their way back together, it's what they said that night, what they termed as 'the last night of the world', that means something, that if the world to were to come to an end at that moment, that at least they would be together.

Ah, I had a point to make, give me a moment.

I think I was just thinking about us, about true love. You know as kids people tell us fairytales, the true love's kiss that awakens you, the happily ever afters. No one really lives happily ever after, I think that's what we learn to recognize as adults. But we also realize that the one we love, our one true love, can make it seem like we have. You are my sun and moon and stars and if I never tell you that enough, know that's it's true.

Like Kim, I could give up my life for my children, and I would in a heartbeat, Caleb and Rory are that important to me. But I could never give my life up for you, it just wouldn't be possible. My life is your life as yours is mine. I can't imagine ever untangling the two.

When we had that dinner at our house last night with Rory and Caleb and everyone that we know, Rory gave me a tape she'd been meaning to send me for awhile. Apparently, they decided to kill off Alan Quartermaine on General Hospital. Now that may mean nothing to you but it's so incredibly sad to me. I remember when he joined the show, I remember hiding out in my room after school just to watch the show, to find out who was AJ's father, find out whether Alan was going to tell Monica that Susan was pregnant with Jason. And now he's dead?

I tell ya, I get the killing off Lila Quartermaine thing, I mean the actress that played her, Anna Lee, had died. But killing off Alan? To me, Alan and Monica and the Quartermaines were the soul of the show, unlike Rory who always had a soft spot for Luke (not you, Luke, of course – I mean Luke Spencer).

Thankfully Rory taped the episodes after his death when all the family and everyone on the show came together to mourn. I watched the funeral episode just before I sat down to write this letter and I have to tell you, I cried. Actually, I sobbed. They always do those sequences at the end when they kill off an important character as if they're memorializing their life and more than anything it was the memories of Alan and Monica that got to me.

You know, I remember when he proposed (this first time). Actually, I remember when he proposed every time. And even though they wanted to kill each other sometimes and even divorced once or twice, they still found their way back to each other because they really and truly loved each other.

More than anything else it was the flashback to Monica's breast cancer that got to me. I remember those days. I was working the day shift at the inn by then and I'd managed to stay dusting the same room long enough so I could watch all of General Hospital while doing my work. I wonder what Mia thought when she'd see me coming out of a room with tears in my eyes. But Alan was so wonderful. All though it, he was by her side, he was going through hell just as she was because her life was his life and if it was happening to her then it was happening to him.

There was an episode after her surgery when Monica was depressed over her looks, thinking that Alan didn't want her anymore and she wasn't beautiful anymore, which is so untrue because how could Leslie Charleson ever not be beautiful? They were fighting in their room late one night and finally she just opened her robe and screamed 'this is me, are you telling me you want to go to bed with this?'. And Alan, wonderful Alan, responded 'yes, very much'. Because it was her, not her body, that he loved.

I just can't believe she's going to have to go on without him now. I just feel for her. They been pretty much married for 30 or so years now, how can she even know what it is to live her life without him now?

Luke, you know, I write you some crazy letters sometimes. Well intentioned, but crazy.

When I come home next week, everything's going to change. You know that, right? It's just a short period of time. It's you and me, every day, night after night. And after Caleb grows up and anyone else that happens to come along grows up, it'll really be just us. And we'll argue and we'll fight and we'll have some great times as well, but we need to be prepared.

So I'm just telling you now, for the future, for the next time I screw up, I would never hurt you. I would never do anything that would distance myself from you. I would never want that.

Even if you're having a rough week or I am, and you're trying on my every last nerve and Caleb's working on the word 'no', nothing will be different in what I feel for you. Like my good old friend, Glenn Medeiros, once said, nothing's gonna change my love for you. I don't want you to be anyone else but you and I don't want you to be more than you are or something that you're not. I want you to be you, Luke Danes, my husband, my lover, the love of my life, my best friend, my heart and soul. That's the man I gave my heart to, that's the person sharing my life with me.

Until tomorrow comes,

_Lorelai_

PS. We should really have that whole kids discussion again soon, shouldn't we?


	39. May 19th, 2007

One last letter after this one. So I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who's taken this ride with me. It's been almost a year since I started working on this and itps been quite a process but I'm so thankful for all of your support along the way. I can only hope our Luke and Lorelai find this much joy in their future.

* * *

_May 19th, 2007_

To Luke,

I know it's ridiculously stupid for me to be writing you here in our home, especially now that I'm here for good, but I need one last shot at this. Maybe you need it too, I don't really know.

I should warn you that I have _My Way_ on repeat on that little MP3 player I stole from Rory while she's off doing interviews and stuff. Frank Sintra's a smart man. Actually, no it wasn't Sinatra who wrote it. Yes, Old Blue Eyes sang it, but do you know who wrote that song? I'll give you a hint: he's all snuggled up next to me now. (And it's not Caleb because he's with you in case you forgot.)

Anyways, the reason I was saying that Paul Anka's so smart is that the person singing the song gets the end of whatever they're talking about, I'm guessing their life but who knows, and they look back and they're happy because they did it their way. Yeah, it sucked being so far apart. We both know that's the truth. But it's come to an end and I'm not disappointed, not in the least. We're together. We're married. We've got Caleb and we're open to the possibility of more. And we did it our way.

I'm so corny sometimes. But you love me, so you get to deal with it.

It was sad to leave Paris, at least to some extent. I made such a good friend in Graciela. It's true, she's no Sookie, but she was sometimes the one person I felt I knew at all out there. On those days when I felt really lonely, especially before Caleb and before we worked anything out, I had her. And we'd just go shopping or go on walks and it was… nice. She was a breath of fresh air.

I'm so happy she said she'd come to visit. I'm definitely flying her out here for Caleb's first birthday and maybe that little welcome back Lorelai/congrats on the marriage/super Stars Hollow-ness celebration that I hear is in the works. And if it's supposed to be a surprise then it's going exactly as planned. I want her to see Dragonfly, the place I really built from the ground up. I want her to see our life. I want her to see the diner and the town. I want her to see how happy I can be because I think she only really got a glimpse of it whenever you happened to be in town.

Look at me and my insane sappiness. You'd think I was pregnant again.

Oh, so I should tell you – I think our discussion went well. Don't you? "Hey Luke, what do you think about more kids?" "Yes." Well that's what I get for marrying Monosyllabic Man.

Sometimes I think what you say in those few syllables says so much more than I say in my excruciatingly long ramblings.

So we're going to do this? You.and me and the whole family thing? You do know that you're going to have to live through my cravings this time and all the crazy things that happen to be during pregnancy. It's worth it though. I mean, look at Caleb and tell me it's not worth it to put up with an even more off kilter me for a few months.

You know I just smiled to myself. I'm picturing you two right now and it's such a breathtaking sight.

This morning when you kissed my head and muttered that you were taking Caleb with you to work today, I think I thought you were joking. Actually I'm pretty sure I wasn't sure what you were talking about. I was in the middle of a dream in which you were trying to take me fishing and you were insistent that Caleb would love fishing. And you pointed him out to me and there he was in the middle of the lake, rowing the fishing boat on his own. And yes, he was still his little 6 month old self, although he'd somehow figured out how to row a boat. Yup, a bit of a crazy dream I had going on. So I think when you told me you were taking Caleb this morning I thought you were going out with him on the boat without me. (Which I was perfectly content to allow you to do.)

But now it's just me in this huge, beautiful house that you created for us and it's kind of nice for me too. I need to settle in still, this is all still new to me unlike you since you said you moved in here soon after Tom finished. I really can't believe it. I can't believe that when I was in Paris you didn't stay in your little cave above the diner. It's shocking Luke, that's all.

And you're there in the diner with Caleb and hopefully Patty and Babette haven't run off with him. You're showing him around and letting him see what his daddy does for a living. He's finding out how much you love that place and how much of your father still lives inside there. He's not going to get any idea of a love of parents from me so it's good that you have enough for both of us. (That's not true, of course, I do love my parents. I just don't get them. I can't have the kind of relationship with them that I want to, it's just not meant to be.)

You're just so great with him. You're just the proud daddy that I don't think you ever expected to be, though I knew that it would turn out like that.

When you picked us up at the airport on Friday afternoon – when I saw you standing in that waiting area with that silly grin on your face (one that I should have taken a picture of for future blackmail purposes) – I had to stop and just take a breath and let it out. It was satisfying. I'm glad it was just you. I mean I was just home a week ago, I didn't need any parade or marching band welcoming me, I just needed to know I was home, that it was permanent. I needed you and you were there, exactly as you've always been.

And I'll never forget that moment because it seemed so natural. You just walked over and took Caleb from me and kissed me, your eyes glittering as I know they do when you're just too happy and you couldn't possibly let it show on your face. Then you just took my hand and said in that low, sexy voice you have, "let's go home". I couldn't have imagined it any better than that.

After all, I just spent a year in Paris which was anything but home.

Do you remember that first letter I wrote to you? It was so long ago that I can barely remember it myself. I have your short four sentence response but I'm not positive if I exactly remember what I wrote to you. I remember begging you to write back. I asked you like 15 times at the end of the letter to write back. And I also remember one time that you told me you never once considered not responding. I suppose after spending 10 years wrapped in each other's lives we couldn't separate them that easily. Besides, you loved me. As angry as you were at me, even with all that sadness and disappointment that I left you with, you didn't even stop to think that you had a very good reason not to write back to me. You know, if the tables were turned, if you were the one who had written first, I certainly would have responded in a heartbeat as well.

Just because I wanted out of our relationship didn't mean I didn't love you. It hurt too much to keep going but breaking things off with you would never make me fall out of love with you.

Then again, even if I hadn't written that letter, even if it had taken longer for us to talk or text message or send a singing telegram, I think things would have still worked out. I have true faith in that. I feel like there's this string that ties our two hearts together and even if we're worlds apart, even if it seems we're so far separated that we couldn't imagine that we'd ever find each other again, it would work out. I'd find my way back to you by that string, my heart would find yours. I just believe that it couldn't be any other way.

Anyways, going back to what I was saying about that first letter, I was wondering if you remember when I talked about the Eiffel Tower and then I retold the story about the first time I told you I loved you. I can't believe I waited that long to do that. We'd been together for almost a year (minus that one month that we won't speak of) and I'd never told you I loved you. I'm astonished at myself. I'm ashamed.

I think a lot of the reason was that we hadn't figured out this whole communication thing. We should have realized that the first time broke up but we're stupid and we're too crazy for each other to realize what was really wrong between the two of us. I tell ya, I love that you can read me. I love that you can look into my eyes and just know what I'm thinking but I think it's wrong to trust in that. And I'm sure you do too.

With these letters and everything, I think we've communicated more in the past year that we have in our entire eleven year relationship. And maybe after a year of getting all these words and feelings and thoughts down on paper, I've noticed that we're doing it more often in conversation too. It just seems natural to go and tell you when something's up, when I'm wondering why you have to work late at the diner and when you think that you need some alone time with April or Caleb.

It's so much easier not wondering what you're thinking anymore or wondering if you know what I'm feeling. I feel so light I could do a jig.

Back to that letter and that trip to the top of the Empire State Building, do you remember what I said about the people we watched from the top? Do you remember that I wanted to look at the ordinary people doing ordinary things living their ordinary lives? I said that those people were us. And maybe I'm wrong, maybe we're not just those people.

I mean to most, I'm just another woman with a husband and a child and a pretty blue house. You're just a guy who owns a diner who's got a wife and a kid and a closet full of flannels.

But what they don't know is what we carry around inside: this family, this great love. It's so much the opposite of ordinary. It's extraordinary. It's better than a trip to a far away location. It's better than an apartment in Paris. It's better than all the riches in the world because not even those can give us what we most want: each other.

How can anyone think that's ordinary?

I think this life, this amazing life that I'm living right now, is anything but ordinary. It's something I dreamed of. Love, comfort, safety, surety that it would be there for the rest of my life. When I was small and I was living in that large cold house, I would wish for the day that I'd be happy, that I'd have someone with me who loved me, really loved and I never imagined it would come true. I didn't think it was something I deserved. You know, maybe I backed down last year, maybe I let things whither away between us because I thought it was all too good to be true. I mean, my sixteen year old self couldn't imagine it: me, married, loved, settled. It didn't compute.

And now here I am and it, it's like living a fairy tale, although I do understand that there's no such thing as living happily ever after – or maybe there is if we work for it.

Today, after I put this letter in an envelope and set it on your nightstand, I'm going to get dressed and I'm going to call my daughter, who is now a Yale graduate. Then I'm going to leave my perfect house that my husband built for us and our family and I'm going to go to the diner, my husband's place of work. I'm going to see my friends there, those who love you and me so much that they're the family we may have never realized we had. I'm going to hold my son and know that I'm never happier than when he looks up at me with all that trust in his eyes. I'm going to kiss you, my husband, my love, and I'm going to wish that it was late at night so I could take you home and work on that recent decision to fill this house with lots of little Danes'. Maybe I'll stop by the Dragonfly and get things ready for when I return on Monday, back to the place that I built with my own two hands (and yours and Sookie's as well), the place that I've never been prouder to say is mine.

I'll sit in that diner and I'll drink my coffee as if it were just another ordinary day, just another day in my life that I go to the place I visited almost every day for 10 years straight. Maybe it is just another day. But I wouldn't want to change a thing. I wouldn't want to be in Paris. I wouldn't want to be rich. I wouldn't want anything more than what I have.

Because what I have, this life, it's the closest thing to perfect that I've ever known.

And now I sign off. Forever.

With love,

_Lorelai Victoria Gilmore Danes (the only)_


	40. November 24th, 2007

Well we've reached the final chapter. I want to thank all of you for all your support. I'm so glad that I inspired so many with these letters and I do hope that you'll go back and read my other stuff. If you want my newest fic, The Deep Blue, it is actually only posted on BWR because I've been having technical difficulties with I still use the same screen name over there so feel free to check it out!

* * *

November 24th, 2007

To Caleb Nathan Danes,

Hey there, Little Boy. Happy 1st birthday. I can't believe it's been one year already. It seems not long ago that I was big and pregnant and had those fat ankles.

Back then I was living in an apartment in Paris. Did you know we used to live in Paris? (When I say we, I mean you and I, your daddy was back here in Stars Hollow.) When you grow up I'll bet you wish you could remember living there. It's a beautiful city and exactly equal to all the hype everyone makes about it. Maybe I'll take you there when you're older to visit your Aunt Graciela and her son, Gaston.

Anyway, I was living there because I had a job fixing up an inn on the outskirts of the city. It's the same inn that Graciela works at now. That's how we met actually.

Like I said, your daddy lived here. Well not _here _here, this house wasn't built yet. At least I don't think it was. Your daddy had it built while I was living in Paris so I'm not exactly sure of the exact date that they broke ground.

So he lived here and I lived there and I was missing him like crazy. You see, this was before I married him. (Which is obvious because you've seen pictures of our wedding and you were there.) We'd had a bit of trouble and instead of staying and trying to work things out, I ran to Paris. I was young (at heart) and immature and it was a stupid move to make, especially because my heart ached every day because I missed him so much.

It's one of the things I hope you don't inherit from me – my cut and run syndrome. Don't ever run away from something just because it's hard. Running may turn out to be the harder route in the end.

However, on that day a year ago, your daddy was in Paris with me. He claimed he came because I needed him, and I did, but I know he came because he was so excited to be your daddy. He was so excited to meet you and be there for the first moment you came into the world. I think he learned something about love by that experience; I think he realized that you don't need a reason to love your children. It's natural (at least for those who are actually human).

I knew he loved you long before we ever knew you.

You know, your sister April was thirteen the first time she met your dad. It's got to be a shock. Still to this day I can't imagine what must have been coursing through him the moment he first found out that he was her dad. And though I won't discuss what I thought of that at the time, I did know he loved her, even from the first moment I met her. He was protective already – he worried about the strangers she might meet, worried that she might be harmed, more than that he was worried she be ashamed when she realized that her father was nothing more than a simple man who owned a diner.

I'll let you in on this little fact. Yes, he's a guy who owns a diner, but he's also more than that. He's someone who's got your back. He'll be there even on your worst days, even when you don't expect him to be. And he'll love you unconditionally even when you don't think you deserve it anymore. He'll do anything for you, for me, for April and Rory and your future sibling who is sitting on my bladder right now. (Excuse me a moment.)

_I don't know why your mother needed to tell you that, but I've learned to just accept her craziness and you should too, Caleb._

Okay I'm back. And I read what your father wrote just now and one day I'm going to teach him not to be mean to his pregnant wife.

What was I saying?

Oh okay, so that day a year ago I was in the apartment alone because your daddy was out shopping with Graciela for diapers and a million other things he claimed we needed but never ended up using. It was sweet but I wish he'd let me know what he was going to do ahead of time so I could have taken stock in Johnson & Johnson the moment we found out you were an it.

But, of course, that's when the pain started. And I called Luke to tell him, but also added that he didn't need to rush because it was going to be awhile. Of course, because he's Luke, he was back within minutes. By then I was on the phone with Rory letting her know that she was going to be a big sis soon. Your daddy started trying to drag me to the car and I had to keep telling him to wait, that I knew it would be awhile and it was so frustrating that if he wasn't being so incredibly wonderful right then I would have bitch-slapped him right back to the States. Let me tell you, I had enough hormones in me that I seriously considered doing that.

Eventually I was in so much pain that all I could do was get to the kitchen and give him a look and he was calling a cab. Thankfully, Graciela made her way to the apartment quickly and drove both your father and I to the hospital. It was a beautiful snowy day. Yes, it absolutely had to be snowing the day you were born. It was snowing when Rory was born. I hope Mother Nature will make sure it's snowing when your little sibling is born.

The whole ride over your daddy kept squeezing my hand or my knee and asking if I was all right. I'd look at him and smile and say that everything was perfect. I don't think he believed me but how could it not be true? He was there. It was snowing. And I was about to be a mother again.

Of course, by the time I got to labor and delivery, I was screaming and swearing (like a sailor on leave, as I always tell Rory). I was squeezing your daddy's hand so hard that I think he thought I might break it. But he stayed with me, telling me over and over that I could do it.

I have to admit this right now. I'm not sure how I made it through Rory's birthday. I know I was strong and independent and really trying to prove I could do it on my own. And I could. And I did basically raise Rory on my own. But why do it on your own when you don't have to?

Besides, at sixteen it seems important to show your independence. For Rory that didn't come until age twenty, but I think at some point every child feels a need to prove his or her independence. You'll have to produce this letter to remind me when you decide to do that one day.

But on that day a year ago, I wasn't alone. Your dad was right there with me on the exact moment you were born. Though you were a bit gross when you first showed up, after they cleaned you off and gave you to your daddy who handed you to me, you were the most perfect baby I'd ever seen. (Okay, tied with Rory. Probably also tied with this future lil Danes as well.) And when they cut the cord, I almost cried because it was the first step in breaking your dependence on me. You were just born – so cute and little – and I wanted to keep you like that forever. When I held you in my arms for the first time, my heart was so full that I couldn't speak.

Your father just said that I should add that it was a once in a lifetime occurrence. He's a funny one.

Then I handed you back to him. The way he held you so gently, so lovingly, it made me wonder how he could ever doubted what a great father he was going to be.

So that's that. That's the story of your birthday. It was one of the greatest days of my life along with Rory's birth and my wedding.

I love you, Little One. I've tried to give you everything and I want you to have all of that and more because you deserve it.

Now, I am aware that you're only one year old. Though you are the brightest little boy in the world, I know you can't read yet or even understand half of what I've written here. Your father just added that you probably will never understand half of what I say. Ignore him. He gets all whiney when he doesn't understand something I've said.

But here's the thing. This letter writing isn't something new for us – it's something we did for a whole year starting six months before your birth and ending six months after, during the whole time I was living in Paris. You may be wondering why in this day and age of phone and pagers and whatever other technological advances that I, your almost forty year old mother, probably will never figure out unless Rory teaches me, why did we write letters?

Here's the truth, Caleb (and it still hurts to remember it) but here goes: about six months before you were born, we (your daddy and I) were separated. We'd broken up and, more than that, we'd hurt each other so much that I felt like I ached every moment. That's when I moved to Paris. That's why I moved to Paris. I thought he was so angry with me and I was so angry with him, but still I couldn't imagine not communicating with him. Your father had come into my life over ten years before you were born. I'm not sure how or when it happened but he became my confidant and my best friend. I don't think I even realized it at first, until the first time we fought and didn't speak for a few days and I realized how much I missed him and the way he listened and the way he was always there. It's funny the way things happen and you don't even realize it until you're at a wedding and guy asks you to dance and suddenly you realize you're melting in his arms and blushing like a sixteen year old.

Anyway, I was over in Paris and all alone and just going crazy without him and I grabbed a piece of paper and started writing. Next thing I knew I was mailing it off and trying to decide if I should break into the post office to get it back so I couldn't have to face his reply, or worse, the lack of one. But he did write back.

Now we're sitting here, both with a box full of letters, about 52 each to be exact, and I think we've gotten all we needed to from them. We've read and reread them. We learned about ourselves and each other and life in general. But I - sorry we - want them to be so much more than that.

Today we write this letter and on your eighteenth birthday, you'll finally read this. You'll finally be given all of these letters (with a few parts marked out in black marker for our own personal reasons). I'm not sure what you'll get from them. Maybe they won't mean anything to you, I don't know. I only know you at one year, I don't know the eighteen year old Caleb. I do know, however, that I'll love him just as much, that's a certainty.

Maybe there'll be a time in your life when you'll be lost and wondering who and what to turn to. As your mother, I'll hope you could turn to me, but I know that's not common for eighteen year olds. Even Rory went through that phase. But I hope you'll have someone, even if you can only reach them by a letter, I hope you'll reach out to them. I hope you'll trust them to catch you and just love for who you are because I know you're a wonderful person. I hope these letters can teach you that.

More than anything, I hope you learn that this place, Stars Hollow, this house, the town, these people, your father, me, all your siblings, this is home. This is your home. It doesn't matter how far away you are or what happens we will always love you, we will always be there for you. Don't ever be afraid to come home.

_Your mother says I need to write something and she's poking me for writing that. Caleb, if I could have one wish for you, I'd wish you happiness. Don't let pride or hurt get in the way. Just do whatever you can to be happy. I never knew true happiness until I met your mother and married her and had you. (Not in that order, of course.) When you and your mom were in Paris and I was here… it was the most I'd ever missed anyone in my life. And that's saying something. So don't ever let that happen to you. Don't ever be stupid enough to lose what makes you happy._

And that's all he wrote.

_One more thing before I go grocery shopping for your birthday party and one of your mom's odd pregnancy cravings. I just want to say I love you, Caleb. Even if I don't say it enough. Don't ever doubt my love._

And now this is why I should never force him to do anything. Just a few sentences and he's already outdone me. Plus, now I'm crying.

So Happy Birthday, Little One. Even if you don't remember this day years from now, at least you'll have this as a memory.

With love,

Mom _and Dad_


End file.
